


Fullmetal Warriors: Flowers and Birds (VOLUME 1)

by Umbra_Raptor



Series: Fullmetal Warriors Arc #1: The Shifting Times [1]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003), Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga, Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Beta’d by my epic writing teacher, Crossover, Fighting, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Ily Mrs. [REDACTED], Mainly based off of 03 but with some Brotherhood characters, More relationships in later volumes, StarClan being gods, Tfw when you get tossed out of your own dimension and turned into cats, blood and injuries
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:27:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25195423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Umbra_Raptor/pseuds/Umbra_Raptor
Summary: Edward, Alphonse, and Winry have certainly had to deal with change in their lives, but being thrown into another dimension by the call of destiny certainly could not have been an expected development. Nonetheless, they must learn how to live with their new bodies while facing a darkness rising in the valley.(Based off of my Sims 3 Warrior Cats x Fullmetal Alchemist Challenge.)
Relationships: Alphonse Elric & Edward Elric, Alphonse Elric & Lust, Alphonse Elric & Winry Rockbell, Edward Elric & Winry Rockbell, Heymans Breda/Original Female Character(s), Lust/Scar (Fullmetal Alchemist), Riza Hawkeye/Roy Mustang
Series: Fullmetal Warriors Arc #1: The Shifting Times [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1825222
Comments: 3
Kudos: 11





	1. A New World

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha FMA Warriors AU go brrr  
> Edit: This chapter has been revised!

Stars flecked the amber and indigo twilight sky as the sun descended, allowing the crescent moon to peek from the horizon. The scent of pine and leaves was carried by the light Greenleaf breeze. The only sounds came from the birds singing their vespers to the evening and the crunching of grass in the forest clearing as a black and gray tom paced back and forth. His hackles were bristling and his pawsteps stiff, muscles flexing under his glossy pelt.

Finally, the dark cat sat, tail flicking from side to side rapidly and tufted ears flattening as he stared down at the quivering gray tom he was looming over. He hissed through clenched teeth, “So, what you’re saying is that your prayers to your ‘warrior ancestors’ to bring you ‘clanmates’ was the catalyst for us being torn from our world and into yours?”

The large gray tom lowered himself to the ground, knotted tail tucked between his legs. The old cat replied, “Yes. I never intended for you to be taken from your world. I apologize.”

“Breda, are you sure that was pot you gave me?” Muttered a spotted golden tom from a fallen conifer a few yards away. The dark orange and white tabby tom his words were directed to ignored him, his bright yellow eyes trained on nothing in particular.

Swift as lightning, the raven tom lunged at the scrawny cat. A strangled cry escaped from the elderly tom’s black muzzle as sharp white fangs latched onto his throat, wrestling him to the ground as his hooked claws tore through his pelt. The pinned cat mewled pitifully, risking a clumsy kick at the black tom’s belly. His attacker merely grunted into the gray tom’s tangled fur and raked his belly with his hind claws.

“Sir!” The black tom was shoved violently off of the senior cat, who lay quaking on the dusty earth. The dark tom snarled, writhing away from the yellow and white tabby she-cat who had thrown him unceremoniously off of his victim. He spat out clumps of thick, matted fur.

“What was that for, Hawkeye?” He demanded, flexing his claws into the earth, creating deep furrows in the ground. Hawkeye glared defiantly at the tall tom, her medium length fur prickling.

“You need to get a hold of yourself, Roy Mustang, or else I’ll do it for you.” She growled. Though the tom’s eyes widened for a moment at the use of his name rather than the formalities expected from one’s subordinate, they quickly returned to dark slits. He took a threatening step forward.

“Is that a challenge, Lieutenant?” Before the yellow queen could reply, the gray tom stood, scrambling forward and dividing the quarreling cats.

“W-wait! Please, don’t fight! You were sent here by StarClan, you surely have a greater purpose than to spill blood in camp.” He pointed out, back arched. Mustang gave a loud, bitter chuckle, hackles rising.

“Don’t give me that crap. If I need to spill blood I will. I have just been transported into a realm of talking feral cats and away from where what I always dreamed of lies, and it’s _your_ fault.” The black tom snarled. The gray cat’s tail tip twitched nervously.

“What do you dream of? Perhaps we could find some sort of replacement?” Leaf green eyes flashed with hope as they stared anxiously into onyx black ones.

“I dreamt of leading Amestris’ military and keeping my friends safe. But I guess your warrior ancestors didn’t exactly agree with those ideals, did they?” Mustang spat, voice laced with bitterness and his tail lashing. The old tom’s gaze lit up, small ears pricking.

“W-well, you could always lead the clan! Your claws and teeth are sharp, and your muscles look like they’re in great shape. Those traits are useful to a clan leader. I can even ask StarClan to try and shift things around in your world to bring - Amestris, was it? - a leader that has a similar mindset to you and will make the changes you want if you’d like!” The tom suggested. Mustang’s eyes sparked with interest.

“Clan leader, you say? All of the cats you’ve summoned, under my leadership? My old country under the protection of a better leader?” The dark tom’s voice had lost all malice, only holding a focused intrigue. “Say, what’s your name, cat?”

“Jaggedleaf,” The gray tom replied, sitting down and curling his bushy black tail over his paws.

“Very good. Now, after I put names to all of these faces, I’d like you to tell me more,” He purred, lifting a paw and licking it in an almost instinctual manner. Edward watched the scene ahead of him, molten gold eyes intent on gaining as much information as possible on his current predicament. Mustang’s eyes flickered over to where he sat, focusing for a second before lighting up as a smirk spread across his muzzle.

“Well, hello, Fullmetal. Seems like you’re just as tiny as you were as a human,” The black and gray cat commented. Edward felt his temper flare up, bright gold and white fur bristling. His claws twitched in their sheathes, itching to rake the arrogant tom’s nose.

“Who are you calling a little runt so tiny that grasshoppers could crush him you jerk?!” He snarled, sun-colored pelt bushing out. Mustang rolled his eyes before he looked to the golden brown and white tom next to him. _Al!_ Edward recognized the cat instantly.

“Hmm… Alphonse! Always a pleasure,” Mustang nodded respectfully to the younger tom. Alphonse dipped his head in turn, face flushing slightly at the recognition. Edward nudged his brother with his muzzle, flicking one ear downwards.

“Not even going to greet your big brother?” The gold tom teased.

“Ed! I’m so happy to see you,” Purred Alphonse, touching the golden and white tom’s cheek with his heart-shaped nose.

“Aren’t you guys their mechanics?” Mustang said after a moment of staring at someone that was sitting next to Alphonse. Edward stepped forward to look past his brother and saw a cream point longhair with soft, squishy cheek fluff and a small, old light brown she-cat at her side, paws tucked under her like a freshly baked loaf. _Winry and Pinako_ , his instincts informed him.

“Yes, sir. I’m Winry Rockbell, and this is my grandmother Pinako,” The pretty she-cat mewed, tail curled over her paws. She glanced at him with luminous azure eyes, nodding at him in greeting. He shot her a grin, and she purred back at him.

“Very well,” Mustang now turned to look at the twitchy, small black and white cat near Edward who had been clawing at a tree stump for a while now. “Hold on… Black Hayate?”

The tuxedo cat looked over at him with blue eyes sparkling with excitement. “Hiya! Wow, this is cool! I mean, I never really liked cats, but I’m glad that you can understand what I’m saying now! And these claws are really cool with how they can retract, super nice!”

Mustang purred with amusement, rolling his eyes as the small tom raved on. Hawkeye padded over to the little cat, who rubbed against the taller she-cat affectionately.

“Hello, Hayate,” The tabby mewed as she settled down on the ground next to the tom, licking back the cowlick on his head.

“And you four,” The black and gray tom addressed the cluster of cats by the fallen tree. “Havoc, Breda, Falman, and Fuery. Good to know you’re here.”

Havoc nodded respectfully at Mustang, rosette-strewn fur seeming to glow in the light of the sunset. Fuery was pressed up against him, spiky black fur flattened against the sleek gold pelt of the taller tom. Breda sat beside the pair. The russet cat was washing the thick, soft white fur on his chest. Falman’s thin gray tail was flicking anxiously as he dipped his angular head. Mustang nodded to himself.

“Ahem, and I’m Den. The Rockbells’ dog who is now a cat of all things,” Mustang jumped at the sound of another voice. An old black and white tom glowered at him from where he sat, partially obscured by foliage. His white-tipped tail twitched with annoyance, and Mustang shot him an apologetic glance.

“Good, so that’s everyone-”

A cough echoed through the clearing, causing all heads to turn to the source. Edward felt his stomach drop.

“Scar? _And_ Lust?” Alphonse breathed beside him. The two cats were laying across a long silver stone, the setting sun casting eerie shadows onto the boulder and grass. Was it the darkness of the sky or the presence of the two people - er, cats - who had tried multiple times to kill him and his beloved little brother that sent a chill down Edward’s spine?

“No. No way am I going to be in this clan if they’re here,” Mustang growled, trotting over with claws unsheathed and lips drawn back in a fierce snarl. “So should I take care of the problem or will you leave and never set your paws in this forest again?”

“Of course, threatening violence again. Classic dog of the military,” Lust mewed casually, licking one of her snow-white front paws, a stark contrast to her primarily jet black body aside from a few other markings of the same pale hue. Scar sat stiffly beside her, intense red eyes burning through Mustang, long light brown, gray, and white fur raised. The hairs along his spine were prickling with cold aggression, broad muzzle wrinkled as to just barely expose his sharp canines. Edward’s claws poked out of their sheathes. _Of course, taunting people and having a condescending attitude. Classic homunculus_ , he retorted silently, daring not to speak aloud lest she decided to slash his ears; though her claws were still sheathed, her dew claws showed that they were just as sharp, long, and dark as they were when she was a homunculus, and since he’d first seen her use that deadly power of hers, he hadn’t been keen on starting any unnecessary fights that he couldn’t win.

“Don’t you dare patronize me. Leave, n-!”

“They will not be leaving,” A cold voice called. Mustang turned to see Jaggedleaf’s eyes rolled back into his head, gaze turned a cloudy, solid white. The black muzzle of the old tom was twisted into an ominous smirk. “Oh, don’t look so frightened, everyone. It’s just old Gladestar here. I thought it would be fun to toss in a few twolegs from another world. Breezestar and Heatherstar nearly clawed my ears off after I broke their little rule of not using our Stargraced powers, although Lightstar thought it was genius. Please, don’t ruin this for us, especially now that I’ve got some juicy drama to enjoy.”

“What… what did you do to him?” Winry murmured, blue eyes wide and tail puffed out. Gladestar gave a purr of amusement.

“Don’t worry, my girl. Jaggedleaf’s fine, I’ve just temporarily taken control of his body, which, sheesh, he should be taking better care of. Bags under the eyes, tangled pelt, broken yellow teeth, jutting ribs… yikes. Anyways, you’re all staying unless I decide otherwise.” Mustang’s fur bristled.

“But-”

“No buts. Now, go on and make my clan great! I’ve got faith in you cats,” Jaggedleaf began to tremble violently as his green eyes turned normal once again. The clearing was silent for a moment, save for the chirping of crickets as the moon climbed into the sky. The GladeClan medicine cat cleared his throat, breaking the silence as he leaped onto the oak stump at the head of the clearing, fanned by great ferns that blew in the gentle, cool night wind. “Now, I suppose I should explain some things about clan life to you all before we can assign you names, mentors, and ranks.”

“Names?” There was confusion evident in Fuery’s voice as he spoke up. The elderly tom glanced down at the small black cat, gaze glinting with amusement as he tucked two dried leaves behind one ear. They’d fallen out from his shock at seeing several random cats materialize in camp.

“I’ll be explaining it now. All of your questions will be answered,” Jaggedleaf assured him. “If anyone wouldn’t like to be included in the clan, I may be able to convince StarClan to open a portal to your old world. Gladestar doesn’t hold complete jurisdiction, and I might be able to change his mind on someone’s fate. I’m not sure if I could persuade him to bring back the big light brown tom and the pretty black she-cat though. He always has enjoyed a bit of drama. Speak now if you want to return.”

Silence befell the clearing.

“I… I think I would like to return,” Havoc mewed quietly after a moment. Fuery bristled, staring at him in disbelief.

“You’re leaving? Why?” The small black tom cried. Havoc averted his eyes, long tail tucked over his paws.

“I have a family and friends, and I _like_ being human. Don’t you?” Havoc looked around camp at all of the cats gathered.

“Both of our parents are dead,” Hawkeye spoke up, flicking her tail at Mustang, who swallowed thickly. Her ears drooped slightly, clearing not liking to discuss this topic. “If StarClan can bring peace to Amestris, Mustang and I have nothing left to return to.”

Mustang nodded. “There are plenty of pretty she cats in this world that I can get along with. At least ask StarClan to assure my foster mother that I’m safe. She’ll be fine without me.”

“My wife and kids left me a while ago and I haven’t heard from them since. Maybe I can find love here. A fresh start,” Falman said.

“I don’t have a family. The other homunculi were merely my colleagues. They meant nothing to me. I have nothing back in the old world,” Lust flicked her tail disdainfully. Edward blinked in surprise. Sometimes when he encountered them, he caught Envy eyeing Lust with undisguised fondness, not to mention Gluttony’s devotion towards her. Was that really true, what she’d said about them meaning nothing to her?

“I was facing death from the creation of the Philosopher’s Stone when I was brought here,” Scar mewed, “Perhaps this is God’s way of giving me another chance to prove myself. I wish to stay.”

For a moment, Scar’s gaze flitted to Lust before glancing down at his large paws.

“I was never close to my family, and I didn’t make many friends I felt connected to, besides Mustang and his men,” Breda shrugged. “This is also just so bizarre that it’s funny. I want to learn more about your little kitty cult traditions, Jaggedleaf.”

After a moment, Edward realized that all eyes were on him as they awaited his answer. He thought for a moment, before smiling as he touched Alphonse’s cheek with his muzzle. “I have all I need right here.”

Al grinned at him. “Same here. As long as my brother is with me, I’d be happy in any world. Besides, I’ve got a body now! I can feel things again!”

“At least ask Gladestar to take care of the remaining homunculi along with giving Amestris a good leader,” Edward added, his voice serious as he addressed Jaggedleaf. Lust narrowed her eyes, and Edward smirked. _So she was lying about not caring for them. Figures. Too bad for her, I suppose._

“I’m fine with staying here as long as there’s something to occupy my mind, and Granny and Den choose to stay,” Winry decided after a moment of consideration.

“We’ll stay as well,” Pinako spoke up, Den nodding beside her.

“My parents were never kind to me, and making friends has been difficult. You guys are all I’ve ever had,” Fuery meowed quietly, staring up at Havoc with wide yellow eyes. “Please don’t leave, Jean. If I had to choose one cat to hunt alongside for my entire time here, it’d be you.”

Havoc looked away. “You can hunt with me while I’m here. When I’m brought back to my old world, I’m sure you’ll find someone else.”

Fuery gazed blankly at Havoc for a moment before hanging his head and looking down at his paws. “Okay.”

The clearing was deathly silent for a moment. Edward gulped.

“I will ask StarClan to put you back where you belong,” Jaggedleaf murmured, voice thickened with grief as if Fuery’s heartbreak was his own. “I’ll have to tell you about our traditions and code.

xxx

“Now, I’ll allow Mustang, your new leader, to assign names and rankings,” Jaggedleaf jumped down from the Greatstump, allowing Mustang to scramble up the black-barked surface. Edward felt his mind reeling from all the new information, but shook his head to clear his mind, preparing for a new dose.

“Thank you, Jaggedleaf. You seem to be a skilled speaker, I respect that,” Mustang and Jaggedleaf exchanged a nod of respect before the black tom turned back to his subordinates. “I have decided on names for each of you, and myself, but I would like to start with my deputy.

“Riza, I trust you more than anyone here, and I would be honored if you would be my deputy,” Hawkeye’s brown eyes widened for a moment, but her expression quickly turned from surprised to calm but pleased. She humbly dipped her head as the gathered cats muttered words of praise. “Your surname, Hawkeye, will work well as a clan name. You can keep it. And I will be known as Flamesnap until I make my journey to the Moonfalls tomorrow and become Flamestar.”

“As you are all aware after Jaggedleaf’s… lengthy speech, a cat must have an apprentice to become a deputy. That’s why I will give Edward, who from this day until he gains his warrior name will be known as Sunpaw, to Hawkeye as her required charge.” Sunpaw’s pelt shone like his namesake as he stepped forward to touch noses with the yellow and white tabby, who was smiling softly at him, looking almost maternal. With a pang of pain he remembered his mother’s similar expression whenever she saw another one of his alchemically made gifts. He breathed in her warm scent hopefully before pulling away. He felt a pang of bitterness that rather than his mother’s aroma of freshly washed clothes and apples, she smelled of early plums and pine. The two’s scents were nothing alike, and that made his hackles prickle with frustration. It seemed as if Hawkeye wasn’t his mother incarnate, after all. He shook his head to clear his thoughts. It was a childish, impossible idea anyway.

“Havoc, Breda, Falman, and Fuery. You’ve been loyal to me for a long time and I welcome you into my clan with open arms as Leopardrush, Redthorn, Smokefeather, and Coalfang,” The cats purred words of praise among themselves. Flamesnap turned his jet black eyes towards Scar and Lust, the fire in them turning from pride to suspicion. “I don’t trust either of you in the slightest, for good reason, but according to Gladestar I must accept you nonetheless as Sandscar and Nightclaw.”

“Next, you two,” Pinako and Den raised their heads to Flamesnap. “Forgive me for saying this, but you don’t look like you’re in your… prime. You will join us as elders, and you will be named Lilacshade and Blackfur.”

“Gee, thanks,” Lilacshade mewed sarcastically, nose twitching. Blackfur gave a yawn as he sat back on his haunches.

“Sunpaw has already been covered, but his brother, Winry, and Black Hayate still need their new names. Alphonse will be known as Hazelpaw, and his mentor will be Leopardrush. When Leopardrush leaves, Smokefur can take over as his mentor."

Hazelpaw bounded up to Leopardrush and pressed his muzzle against the tom’s nose. The spotted gold tom looked a bit reluctant as he pulled back his snout. Sunpaw watched him happily. _Great job, Hazelpaw. You'll make a fine warrior someday._

“Winry Rockbell, I am aware that you have some medical knowledge from your parents, due to their career as doctors, and wish to have a role that occupies your mind. Because of this, I entrust you to Jaggedleaf, as a medicine cat apprentice. You will be named Bluepaw, for the color of your eyes.” Bluepaw strode forward proudly to tap her soft pink nose against Jaggedleaf’s snub gray one.

“And last but not least, Black Hayate. Redthorn didn’t like dogs, but I’m sure that he can appreciate you as his apprentice now that you’re a cat. Because of your dark fur, you shall be called Darkpaw,” The small black and white tom ran straight into his plump mentor, nearly barreling him over. He yelped an apology, but his glittering blue eyes held no such remorse. Redthorn’s soft chuckle confirmed Flamesnap’s deduction.

“Now, feel free to get some rest in the dens. Jaggedleaf’s prepared nests for you all.” Flamesnap descended from the Greatstump to pad towards the nest of moss and feathers beneath the enormous clump of ferns. Sunpaw trotted back to where Jaggedleaf had pointed out the apprentices’ den; a tree-sheltered area in between the thicket of the warriors’ den and the fallen conifer. Hazelpaw and Bluepaw flanked him, while Darkpaw bounded over and curled up in one of the nests, falling asleep almost immediately as signified by his light snores.

In the light of the moon, he could now take time to look over the rest of the camp, which was situated in a dip in the earth of the forest, making the trees and shrubbery that bordered the area look even larger, like sentries guarding them in their sleep. The grass around the camp was mostly flattened, though a few patches around the edges and some of the dens were intact and noticeably long. Among the needle-stripped branches of the fallen conifer, tall ferns and long grass sprang up cheerfully, nearly obscuring the sandy patch of the Fresh-kill Pile from view. It was empty save for a mouse that was quickly snatched up by Flamesnap. The tom was almost invisible in the dark, his black pelt almost completely hiding him from view. His glittering coal black eyes were practically the only thing that gave him away.

"But that's not fair!" Sunpaw's attention was directed towards the warriors' den by a frustrated hiss. Nightclaw was bristling near the fern-dotted entrance of the thicket with Sandscar at her flank, glaring at Hawkeye as the deputy blocked their path into the den. "Why would I hurt any of you?"

"You've killed before, what makes me think you won't do it now?" Hawkeye replied, voice calm but slanted eyes burning through the two cats. Nightclaw’s shoulders stiffened, pupils narrowed into slits. "As far as we know, you'll slit our throats as soon as we fall asleep.”

I have a soul now! I have no reason to hurt any of you," The black she-cat pointed out, tail lashing. Sandscar stood perfectly still beside her, but his red eyes were glinting with resentment as he glowered at the yellow and white tabby. Hawkeye curled her lip, white fangs flashing eerily in the moonlight.

"Even if you're telling the truth about your lack of interest in harming us, we can't guarantee that Sandscar's taste for vengeance is satisfied just yet. As GladeClan deputy, I order you to sleep outside of the den until I or Flamesnap tell you otherwise. As additional punishment for your crimes, we will confiscate your nests and salvage the materials for our own bedding, and you will eat only after everyone else's bellies have been filled. I will consult Flamesnap about other consequences that are more... proportionate to your deeds until you redeem yourselves. End of discussion," Hawkeye turned, padding back into the den as the brambles snagged on her coat. Nightclaw gave an irritated hiss as she curled up on the dry, dead grass of the camp. Sandscar followed suit, ruby eyes burning with a similarly annoyed expression. _At least the night is warm, you ungrateful murderers_ , Sunpaw thought harshly, smirking as he bounced over to the fallen conifer.

The earth of this den was covered in thick green moss that was soft under his paws. Ferns sprang up from the ground near the edges of the den, swishing lightly in the breeze. Ample shade was provided by the branches of a tall tree that happened to be situated adjacent to the Apprentices’ den above the camp.

“Well, what do you know? These are actually pretty comfortable,” Sunpaw muttered as he settled into a nest by the one Hazelpaw had selected for himself. He began to understand Darkpaw’s swift descent into his dreams as his eyelids drifted shut. He heard Bluepaw adjust her fluffy body into another nest by him, the long fur of her bushy tail brushing lightly against him. He chuckled. “Hey, that tickles.”

“Sorry,” Bluepaw giggled. He heard the ruffling of moss as she fixed her position. “I’ll try to keep my fur in mind.”

“Yeah, you better,” Was the last mew that escaped his mouth before he felt himself slip into the gentle claws of sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let’s go it’s alchemy cat times hah
> 
> I’m gonna review for mistakes in the morning. In the mean time feel free to leave kudos and reviews... haha jk jk... unless


	2. The Tour and The Answer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Yang Xiao Long voice) Guess who's back :D

“Hazelpaw, wake up!” Hazelpaw gave an annoyed groan, flicking his ear and batting away the white and cream cat’s prodding paw.  _ Come on, Bluepaw! Let me sleep! _ He thought hard, hoping that he could somehow unlock the power of telepathy right then and there and save himself the effort of opening his mouth.

“It’s our first day of training, you lazy furball! Come on!” The golden-brown tom sprang to his paws, nearly knocking down Sunpaw, who had nudged his broad shoulder with his muzzle. Bluepaw purred with amusement next to him, lifting one soft paw to her mouth to stifle her giggles.

“Heh, sorry brother! I forgot it was today,” Hazelpaw admitted, flushing slightly with embarrassment and licking at his chest fur. The sunlight that filtered through the leaves of the cherry tree that provided shade to the apprentices dappled his soft coat with its warm glow.

“I couldn’t forget,” chuckled Sunpaw, “A whole moon of just sitting in camp waiting for the warriors to learn how to be clan cats. It’s insane.”

“Yeah! I want to go and climb some real trees and hunt some mice!” Added Darkpaw. The black and white tom was clawing at the rough gray bark of the fallen conifer, leaving jagged claw marks. Hazelpaw winced slightly. Any cat that met Darkpaw in battle would be sorry, he was sure.

“At least Granny and Blackfur have cool stories to share. But didn’t you think we’d have a bit more food to eat?” Hazelpaw commented. Sunpaw’s ear twitched.

“I mean, the warriors aren’t exactly experienced, so that could explain it,” the golden and white tabby tom mewed before wrinkling his muzzle in a sneer. “Besides, we’re being led by Flamestar of all cats.”

Bluepaw shook her head. “No, he’s right. Everything they bring back is so small and scrawny, and sometimes they come back scratched up, and whenever I ask about it they brush me off. I overheard Flamestar whispering about some farm in his den with Hawkeye and Jaggedleaf. The conversation seemed pretty tense, and I heard them mention prey, so maybe that has something to do with it?”

“Maybe, I guess,” Sunpaw shrugged, “We’ll have to ask our mentors about it while on patrol. They’re letting us tour the territory together, as a matter of fact.”

“Apprentices! It’s time to leave,” as if on cue, Hawkeye’s voice rang out through the camp. The tabby was standing near the thorn tunnel that led into the forest. Leopardrush, Redthorn, and Jaggedleaf flanked her.

“Let’s go!” Hazelpaw purred to his peers, bounding ahead with excitement swelling in his chest. He heard the other three apprentices’ pawsteps keeping pace behind him as they followed. The sun was just rising, sending rays of bright amber across the camp. Flamestar was sunning his dark pelt on the Baskingstone, flank steadily rising and falling as he napped. Hazelpaw could feel the annoyance radiating off of his brother at the leader’s laziness. He could practically read the golden tabby’s thoughts:  _ Why does he get to sleep in when we can’t? _

A yawn drew his attention to the entrance of the warriors’ den. Nightclaw was stretching out her muscles, light from the sun reflecting off of her silky pelt. A set of scratches on her shoulder brought his mind back to him and his friends’ disquieting speculation a moment earlier. For once he felt a pang of sympathy for the dark queen.  _ No wonder she’s so quiet and grumpy all the time. She has to sleep in the cold every night  _ **_and_ ** _ she’s getting clawed up for some reason! _

Hazelpaw padded to Hawkeye’s side, dipping his head respectfully. She nodded at him, warm brown eyes gleaming with pride. She angled her muzzle towards the thorn tunnel. “Alright, let’s move out.”

The group padded swiftly out of camp, Redthorn struggling to keep pace with his bouncy apprentice. Hazelpaw sucked in a breath, marveling at the beauty of the forest. Birds sang their early morning mating calls from the many enormous trees that stretched up high into the sky, and the forest floor crunched under his paws. The leaves and needles of shrubs brushed his pelt as he strode through the undergrowth. The late Greenleaf air was filled with so many scents that it made his head spin to try and separate one from another, but he could pick up a few distinct smells; the warm scent of his brother, the distinct herbal scent of Bluepaw, and the leafy scent of Darkpaw from constantly climbing the hollow tree that served as the Elder’s den.

“Wow,” He heard Bluepaw murmur breathlessly from beside him, and he stifled an amused purr. They had grown up in Resembool, a place filled with farmlands without even a hint of woodlands such as this. The tallest trees he’d seen there were nothing compared to this, although his new size could contribute to his perception of their enormity. He noticed that the leaves of the trees were beginning to tinge a bright scarlet color.  _ Leaffall is coming soon _ , he thought.

“If you think these trees are impressive, just wait until you see the Ancient Sequoia,” Hawkeye mewed from her place at the head of the group. Darkpaw gave an excited gasp.

“Do I get to climb it?” He asked, tail curled over his back with playful excitement. Hawkeye gave a sharp chuckle, pausing from her steady gait.

“I suppose you could, though it might be a bit large for your little legs,” she swept him off his paws with her long tail as proof. He squeaked indignantly, stumbling as he stood up as tall as possible and puffed out his round chest.

“My legs aren’t little!” He protested, bristling in an effort to appear larger. Leopardrush purred with laughter.

“Hey, Sunpaw! He’s just like you!” The rosetted tom joked. Sunpaw’s hackles rose.

“Hey! I’m way bigger than him,” The gold tabby hissed, tail lashing. Hazelpaw shot his brother a wry smile.

“By what? A millimeter?” Bluepaw taunted the tom. Sunpaw glared at the cream point she-cat, dashing ahead of the group. Hawkeye’s tail raised alertly.

“Sunpaw, stay near us,” she ordered him. The gold and white tabby rolled his molten gold eyes, pacing back to the patrol. Hazelpaw’s ears twitched as he noticed a hint of alarm in her gaze as she called after the small tom. What’s that about? Hawkeye continued, “We’re near the Fishpools.”

“The Fishpools?” Hazelpaw inquired, ears pricking with interest.

“The Fishpools are a set of ponds with a plentiful supply of fish. That’s where we got the trout you ate the other day,” Hawkeye explained. Hazelpaw smiled a bit at the memory, still slightly giddy.  _ I can eat again! _

“Will we get to fish when we’re there?” Darkpaw asked, blue eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. Hawkeye shook her head, resulting in a betrayed whimper from the black and white cat. “Why not?”

“Unfortunately, we spotted an alligator in those waters a few days ago. Flamestar is planning on sending out a party of warriors eventually to kill it so it doesn’t hinder our hunting any further,” Hawkeye mewed. Sunpaw perked up.

“I bet that I can help! I could take that overgrown, prey-stealing lizard in combat any day!” Sunpaw crouched down on the ground, knocking a pebble in front of him off to the side with one of his paws, white claws unsheathed. Hawkeye grinned.

“Sorry, Sunpaw, but I think that is a mission best saved for older warriors,” Hawkeye purred, patting him gently on the head with one small white paw. He gave a frustrated snort, raising his head haughtily. He grumbled and leapt up, swatting at a sapphire-colored butterfly that was fluttering above him. The insect easily dodged the blow and the tom growled to himself, shaking his head. Hazelpaw saw his chance, and opened his mouth to ask about the lack of prey, but was cut off before he could speak.

“Ladies and gentletoms, welcome to the Fishpools,” Redthorn ran ahead into the ferns, voice enthusiastic and loud as if he were a sports announcer. Hazelpaw trotted over to the gap in the fronds, allowing the bright sunlight here to bathe him in gold.

The Fishpools were completely uncovered from trees, though cattails and reeds decorated the area. Hazelpaw felt mud squelch under his paws as he walked towards the closest of the ponds, but he hardly minded. He could just wash his pads later. Lotuses were scattered about the surfaces of the crystalline water. A bullfrog leaped into the water nearby, startling him somewhat. The sound of croaking filled the area, and fat dragonflies buzzed about the area, their bodies in bright metallic hues.

“Don’t go any farther, Hazelpaw, lest you become that alligator’s next meal,” Hawkeye warned him, tail lightly tapping his side to alert him of her presence behind him. Hazelpaw jumped slightly as he caught a flash of a thick, scaly tail disappearing behind a clump of reeds nearby.

“Right, sorry. Where to next?” He questioned, glancing around. He didn’t want to spend any more time around a monster large enough to rip him to bloodied shreds. There was the benefit of invulnerability to his old body, but the cons greatly outweighed the pros. He shivered as he remembered how he tried to sleep every night, but could only sit in silent envy as his brother snored.

“We’re heading to the Thunderpath, or, as the Amestrian word, a road. It’s not too far ahead,” Hawkeye said, pointing towards the direction they were headed with her long snout.

“Well, let’s go! I wanna check it out!” Darkpaw meowed, pacing ahead. The rest of the group followed suit, trotting towards the Thunderpath. In only a few minutes, the cats halted at the black tar of a road that carried a foul, acrid scent. Beyond the tar were the rolling hills of a moorland, heather and gorse plastering the slopes like the stripes on Hazelpaw’s fur. Long, thin grass sprang up from the ground on that side of the road, swaying in the wind that the thick-trunked, leafy trees of the forest shielded him from.

He tilted his head upwards at the call of a bird and noticed a skinny birch on a grassy slope. The trees here seemed to be quite a bit smaller, he noticed. Thick clouds were drifting through the azure sky in the distance. He felt a nagging itch of nostalgia like never before. As much as he adored the forest, these moorlands reminded him of his childhood home, with their hilly, clear nature. He wouldn’t be surprised to see a gold-haired child dashing over the slopes with a blonde girl at his side, his younger brother pursuing them in a game of tag, all three screaming with gleeful laughter. A wave of sadness washed over him. He missed those days dearly.

“Woah, what’s that place over there?” Sunpaw breathed, gaze trained on the moor. Hazelpaw blinked. He’d never seen his brother look so baffled, and from the look in his brother’s eyes, he was sure that the golden tabby was having similar childhood memories.

“This is HeatherClan territory, little tomcat,” mewed an unfamiliar voice. Sunpaw bristled immediately as the heads of the apprentices turned to the source of the noise. A small, sleek brown she-cat with black mackerel tabby markings was stretched luxuriously over a set of boulders just to the left across the Thunderpath. She lifted one paw, examining her white claws with glittering yellow eyes. “Say, I haven’t seen you before. Who are you?”

“Leave them alone, Owlwing. They didn’t ask for your harassment,” Hawkeye hissed, yellow fur rising along her arched back. She glanced towards the puzzled younger cats. “This is Owlwing, HeatherClan’s medicine cat and last remaining member.”

“A pleasure. Anyways, I’m gonna go back to basking. Just don’t cross the border and we’re cool,” Owlwing rolled over, allowing the sun to reach her pale brown belly.

“Who would even want to enter your territory? Looks like trash!” Redthorn snarled. Owlwing glanced over to him, gaze disinterested. Hazelpaw flinched as a monster roared past, leaving thick, putrid black smoke in its wake. Had cars always smelled this bad? The last time he smelled one was two years ago. _ Maybe it’s just a result of cats having stronger olfactory senses _ .

“Better than the pile of mousedung you call a forest,” She responded simply. Redthorn bristled, curling his lip as he paced forward.

“Redthorn, take it easy. Ignore her, GladeClan. Let’s keep moving,” Hawkeye gestured with her tail to the right of them. “We get to see the twoleg place next.”

“Well, what are we waiting for?” Darkpaw squealed, rushing ahead once more. As he strode away, Hazelpaw cast an angry glance back at the she-cat before turning to continue pacing towards the group’s destination. 

“She was... weird?” Hazelpaw shrugged, glancing at his brother.

“I already hate her,” The golden cat snarled, tail lashing. Hazelpaw gave an awkward half chuckle.

“She was pretty rude,” He agreed before continuing to trot along the weed-riddled, shrubless trail by the Thunderpath.

Before long, they had reached the twoleg place, divided from the forest by the houses’ back fences. Hazelpaw could catch a whiff of cat scent from a few of the gardens they padded by, beyond the cloying smell of twolegs. His whiskers twitched.  _ Wow, I really am starting to think like a clan cat _ .

“Alright, we are now going on to the Ancient Sequoia, the Great River, and then the farm. After that, we can go back to camp and get some rest,” Hawkeye meowed. Hazelpaw sat, lifting one round paw and washing the heart-shaped pad rhythmically.

“Oh! Bluepaw, come here!” Jaggedleaf called out to his apprentice. The cream point she-cat’s round-tipped ears pricked as she strolled over to the tom. He gestured to a flowering plant with his bushy tail. “This is catmint. It can cure greencough and whitecough.”

“What are those?” Hazelpaw asked curiously, trotting over to the plant and sitting back on his haunches. Nearby, Sunpaw was nosing around in some ferns, probably searching for mice. Darkpaw was doing the same, but with a level of enthusiasm that would have chased away every piece of prey in a three mile radius.

“They’re common but surprisingly dangerous illnesses that tend to peak in Leafbare,” Jaggedleaf answered. He looked back to Bluepaw. “We can continue with the tour, but after it ends, you and I will have to come back and harvest some of it.”

“Alright,” Bluepaw agreed, nodding respectfully. She leaned in to sniff the plant.  _ Recording the scent for future recollection _ , Hazelpaw thought. He pushed his head forward and did the same.  _ Just in case _ .

“Let’s go, everyone. The hunting patrol is heading out soon, and I know that after such a long tour you’ll be hungry for some fresh-kill,” Hawkeye began to stride forward.  _ How can she walk for so long without getting tired? _ Hazelpaw wondered as he began to hike after her, thick legs growing sore from walking.

“Wow!” Darkpaw squealed when they finally reached the great tree. Hazelpaw halted breathlessly beside him. The mammoth of a tree known as the Ancient Sequoia seemed to reach endlessly into the sky, extending far beyond the other trees of the forest. If heaven existed, Hazelpaw was sure that its floor would be scraped by the branches of the redwood. The old sequoia’s trunk was larger than any he’d seen before, wide enough that every GladeClan cat put together could not encircle it. Moss and ivy cascaded down its boughs and trunk, giving the great gray-brown behemoth some color. Scratch marks marred the lower surface of the elder tree.

“This tree was used by GladeClanners for centuries to sharpen their claws,” Jaggedleaf explained, seeming to notice Hazelpaw’s gaze settling on the marks. “It was also temporarily used to practice climbing, though the clan stopped doing that after too many apprentices wounded themselves. I wasn’t there of course. Medicine cats and their offspring have kept the stories and traditions of the clans alive for several generations now, but there have never been enough cats to fully reform a clan; all the other recruits skittered off out of cowardice or just weren’t cut out for the lifestyle and died.”

“This is incredible,” Sunpaw breathed from beside Hazelpaw. The golden-brown tom gave an absent nod, too caught up in his amazement and shock to agree with the use of his voice. A leaf drifted down from the tree and Hazelpaw crouched low to the ground before launching himself upwards and gripping it in his jaws. His mouth wasn’t wide enough to hold the entire leaf, but he managed to clutch it around the top point before spitting it out on the earth before him.

“Good job, Hazelpaw. That jumping skill will make you a fine bird-hunter,” commented Leopardrush. Hazelpaw’s chest swelled with pride and Sunpaw shoved him playfully. The golden-brown tom gave a sarcastic growl and pushed him back. The pair wrestled for a moment before Hawkeye cleared her throat. They halted immediately and stared up at her apologetically. She glanced down at them with amusement twinkling in her eyes despite a primarily stern expression on her narrow face.

“Can I climb it, Hawkeye? Can I?” Darkpaw asked, prancing in place. Hawkeye chuckled, licking his bent ear.

“Sorry, Darkpaw, but I don’t think it would be safe,” Darkpaw gave a disappointed sigh. Hawkeye lifted her head. “Alright. Now we should head to the Great River.”

“I’m gonna take a wild guess here and say it’s a big river. Any bets?” Sunpaw joked. Hawkeye cocked her head and Bluepaw snorted.

“It’s not just big, it’s massive. It separates the valley from the Distant Hills and is a bit salty since it’s only a few miles from the ocean. It’s deep, too, so don’t even think about jumping in for a swim,” Hawkeye said.

“Darn, there goes Tuesday’s plans.” Leopardrush sighed. Hawkeye flicked his cheek with her tail tip, rolling her narrow brown eyes.

After about fifteen minutes of padding through dense forest, past the small stream that separated GladeClan and LightClan, and panting as he trudged through a particularly thick patch of undergrowth that snagged at his soft pelt, Hazelpaw collapsed onto the shore of the Great River. The coast was covered in smooth pebbles that had been washed ashore after being cradled by the tide for eons, stripped of their roughness by the clear blue water. The Distant Hills were hardly more than curves stretching up from the horizon, but even from here, Hazelpaw could see their enormous size and the city that covered the slopes.

“Let’s not waste any more time, I’m starving,” Redthorn moaned, rubbing at his white belly.

“We might catch something on the way home. We still need to see the farm,” Hawkeye pointed out, beginning to trot along the shoreline. With a groan, Hazelpaw stood, joints screaming for rest. In the distance, He could see the outline of a large red barn and beyond that a set of steep river cliffs.

Hazelpaw’s muscles were ready to give out by the time they made it to the farm. It would be fairly small if he was still a human, but seeing it from the perspective of a feline made it seem quite impressive.

“This place is great for catching mice since they tend to hang around the haystacks and barn. Unfortunately, it is no longer part of our territory,” the wiry tabby’s voice was laced with bitterness. “Let’s get back to camp now.”

“Hold on, why isn’t it part of the territory? Also, I wanted to ask why all the fresh-kill you bring back seems so scrawny when the forest seems to have plenty of food for prey? And why do the warriors come back injured sometimes?” Hazelpaw asked, cocking his head. Hawkeye hesitantly opened her mouth to answer, but paused, sharp eyes settling on something in the forest. Hazelpaw followed her gaze, pupils narrowing to slits when he noticed a fat squirrel nibbling on an acorn beneath a tall, narrow-branched larch. Its swishing tail stirred the needles on the ground beside it as it feasted, oblivious to the patrol just fox-lengths away.

Hawkeye dropped into a stealthy crouch as she crept across the forest floor, small paws silent. She stalked with calculated movements, eyes focused on the gray creature. After a tense moment of quiet, she pounced, jaws locking onto the animal’s throat with carnal intent. Despite the squirrel’s pitiful shrieks, her white fangs sunk into its plump body with cold efficiency and it went limp after a moment.

“Nice ca-”

Before Hazelpaw could finish praising his brother’s mentor, he was unceremoniously shoved aside. A gray shape barreled past them, knocking over the yellow and white she-cat.

“Hawkeye!” Hissed Leopardrush, racing over to the deputy and her attacker. Hazelpaw darted over to the skirmishing felines as well, the other cats of the patrol at his side. The stone-colored longhair who had attacked her bristled from where he stood, one large paw over her head and holding her into the ground. The squirrel lay a fox length away from the tom. He cast his amber glare over the rest of the group.

“Don’t come any closer unless you want her to die,” he muttered, sharp claws unsheathing on the paw that held Hawkeye steady. Her lips drew back as she exposed her teeth.

“Leave her alone!” Hazelpaw spat. The tom leered at him with such malice that he was nearly knocked off his paws. Suddenly he felt like the squirrel laying on the ground two tail-lengths away from the dark gray tabby.

“Maybe once she stops stealing our prey,” he sneered, gripping her face and pulling it away from the ground to once again smack it into the earth. Hawkeye glared up at him as well as she could from her position pinned to the earth.

“It’s not your prey! You have plenty of mice in the barn for you and your cats, Slate.” She hissed. Slate curled his lip, baring his fangs at her.

“There’s hardly enough mice to go around now that we have more kits in the barn! You either take the scrawny stuff that we don’t have the time nor energy to catch or you die,” He spat, leaning down to thrust his muzzle into Hawkeye’s face. “You’d best leave and run back to your little nests, clan cats, or else next time my cats won’t be so cordial as to leave your hunters alive when they decide to steal our prey!”

“We will not back down,” Hawkeye growled, shoving him off of her with enough force to send him a few fox-lengths away. A new rage burned in her eyes at his threat to her clanmates. “Leave us alone. We have you outnumbered.”

“Fine. I see you’ve got younger cats with you; this will serve as a mere lesson for them. You’ve already tainted it your filthy clanner jaws, anyway,” the dark gray tabby shot her a disgusted glare before padding away, back towards the barn. She glanced back to the stunned apprentices. Hazelpaw swallowed hard, coat bristling. “And I believe that answers your questions, young apprentice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slate is a meanie >:(
> 
> In all seriousness y'all are gonna hate him soon if you don't already lolll
> 
> Edit: This chapter has been revised!


	3. The Wounded Cat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay chapter 3 time! Had writer's block and it took me a week to finish, but I hope it's enjoyable nonetheless.

Bluepaw trotted over the forest floor, mouth open to catch the scents of the many herbs that GladeClan’s territory held. Her clean pelt was dappled with sunhigh light. She could vaguely smell the hunting patrol that had just been sent out in the early Leaffall air. Redthorn kept pace beside her; the red and white tabby tom had been assigned to keep her safe, seeing as without Jaggedleaf, who was back at camp with a persistent fever, she would be completely alone in the vast and dangerous woods. Darkpaw wasn’t with them; Redthorn wanted a day off from training his troublesome little apprentice, so he allowed Coalfang to take the black and white tom on a border patrol.

“So…” Bluepaw mewed, breaking the silence that had settled between the pair of cats in an attempt at small talk. “How are Nightclaw and Sandscar?”

“Sulking, as usual. They should just be grateful it hasn’t rained on their sorry pelts,” Redthorn joked. The cream point she-cat purred with amusement, carefully dodging a clump of stinging nettles.

“Have Flamestar And Hawkeye given them any new punishments?” Bluepaw mewed as she clambered up a slope covered in ferns, the fronds tickling her legs.

“Nope, he figured that this is the worst he could do without going against Gladestar’s orders, though he did give both of them a sharp cuff on the ear, if that counts,” Redthorn answered, before pausing. He chuckled, “Although, I bet he has half a mind to execute them next time they slip up.”

Bluepaw smirked, purring with laughter. She sniffed the air again, catching the faint scent of dandelion on the wind.

“I can smell dandelion up ahead, come on,” Bluepaw alerted her companion, inhaling deeply to localize the scent. It seems to be only about twenty fox-lengths ahead, so it’s near the Thunderpath, she guessed. Lucky the wind’s blowing my way or I wouldn’t have even noticed it.

“You seem to be an awful good tracker. You’ve got a nice nose!” Redthorn commented. Bluepaw mewed her thanks, blushing slightly at the older warrior’s praise. She sniffed again, pausing as she caught another scent. She tensed as she noted the bitterness of the smell. Is that…

Bluepaw dashed ahead, ignoring Redthorn’s confused mews behind her. She darted through the bushes bordering the Thunderpath from the forest, the acrid scent of the black tar stinging her nose, now mixed with the new, coppery odor.

Her blue eyes widened as she laid eyes upon the shape of a cat on the ground, many deep, bloody gashes marking her woolly white pelt. Among the alabaster fur, a tattered collar of yellow nylon stained with red was visible, hanging around the injured cat’s neck. The heart shaped silver tag was painted with blood and glinting eerily under the light of the sun.

“Great StarClan…” Bluepaw murmured, jaw agape and back arched as she stared upon the poor kittypet. She leaned in, wincing at the saccharine scent of twoleg place mixed with the metallic, baleful stench of blood and fear.

“Bluepaw, why’d you- Oh Silverpelt!” Redthorn gasped as he came to a sudden halt beside her. His clear yellow eyes widened with shock as he gazed upon the wounded cat. He breathed, “By the Stars… what did this?”

“Barn cats,” Bluepaw growled bitterly. Redthorn held his breath beside her as she flexed her blunt pale blue claws. _Those brutes! She’s just an innocent kittypet, why couldn’t they have just left her alone?_

“Should we… bury her?” As if on cue with Redthorn’s question, one of the kittypet’s soft paws twitched, and she let out a pathetic whimper. Bluepaw felt her healing instincts perk up. “Oh. Apparently not.”

“We need to get her to camp. Redthorn, your shoulders are strong; your back can hold her,” Bluepaw decided, gripping the cat’s scruff in her jaws. The red tom nodded, crouching down as the medicine cat apprentice laid the wounded kittypet onto his wide shoulders. The big tom cringed as he stood, blood dripping onto his pelt, beginning the trek back to camp as Bluepaw followed.

Within a few minutes of trotting forth, they were nearing camp. Redthorn panted beside Bluepaw, dark orange fur stained with the white kittypet’s blood.

As they strode forward, Bluepaw caught the scent of Sandscar on the breeze, almost entirely obscured by the foul odor of blood. The light brown tom poked his broad head out from between two patches of ferns, dropping the fat brown beetle he was holding on a patch of moss.

“Who is that?” Sandscar asked, his tone standoffish and eyes narrowed. Bluepaw paused to glare at him, meeting his ruby red gaze.

“It’s none of your business, murderer.” Bluepaw hissed. Sandscar stretched casually as he padded out of the brush, rising to his full, huge size. The pair of cats tensed, bristling. Bluepaw struggled to hide her growing terror in the presence of the muscular tom, smelling her fear against the metallic blood scent along with Redthorn’s. _Is he going to kill us like he killed all of those State Alchemists? Like he tried to kill Ed and Al? Even after we gave him a chance?_

Bluepaw felt Redthorn bristle beside her. The tom cleared his throat, stammering, “You know, Flamestar won’t be very happy if you don’t let us go back to camp. Gladestar might even permit him to kill you.”

Sandscar ignored him. “Let me help you carry her back to camp. I’m used to the feeling of blood trickling down my body, and I’m stronger, so I can take the cat’s weight for a while. I might even be able to carry her by the scruff if my jaws are strong enough.”

Redthorn’s legs buckled and he collapsed onto the ground with a yelp. Bluepaw bristled with alarm, and she caught a glimpse of Sandscar’s red eyes widening with a similar expression of shock. Redthorn coughed dryly, wincing at the pressure on his back from the plump kittypet. “It might be worth considering, Blue. At this rate, I don’t think I can make it back to camp.”

Bluepaw stood still for a moment, staring at the dark orange tabby cat, before releasing a long sigh. She turned her cornflower gaze to the light brown tom, blue orbs burning with hostility. “Very well. Don’t try anything.”

“I wouldn’t dare. You’re quite threatening, _little_ she-cat,” Sandscar mewed sarcastically before gently gripping the fluffy white cat’s scruff, lifting her with ease. Bluepaw forced her fur to lie flat. _I’m not little! I’m above average when it comes to size. He’s just big._ She groaned internally. _Now I’m starting to sound like Ed. He’s really starting to rub off on me._

The hard-muscled tom turned and began trotting back to camp, walking swiftly as to not allow the kittypet to lose more blood. Bluepaw nudged Redthorn’s shoulder with her soft muzzle. The tabby groaned as he slowly stood, stretching his cramped joints. Bluepaw winced as she saw the dripping crimson stains littering his back, looking away to the forest ahead and rubbing at her nose as if to clear it of the foul scents of blood and fear.

Bluepaw padded ahead with Redthorn at her flank, lagging slightly due to his fatigue. Sandscar was ahead of them both, paws surprisingly quick for his large size. The cream pointed cat noticed a trace of anxiety in piercing yellow eyes when she glanced over at Redthorn.

“Do you think she’ll be alright?” He murmured, voice thick with worry. She paused, pawsteps slowing until she was completely halted in her tracks. She glanced over at the tom.

“I’m not sure, but if we can get her back to camp in time, she should be able to make it.”

Redthorn averted his gaze with a troubled sigh. “I hope you’re right.”

Bluepaw’s ear twitched. _He’s really sweet. I never got to know Flamestar’s team before now, but I’m glad that I get to learn more about them. Even though they were in the military which is responsible for the death of my parents, serving under the man who executed them in the first place_ , she thought bitterly, hackles prickling slightly.

“Come on, she won’t have a chance of survival if you two keep stalling,” Sandscar’s hiss snapped her out of her thoughts. She nodded, rushing ahead to keep a quick pace with the huge tom. Redthorn panted as he struggled to match their speed. She resisted the urge to claw Sandscar’s broad muzzle, rather growling to herself, _I hate it when people I don’t like are right about things!_

Finally, the four cats reached the thorn tunnel that led into the camp, the grass beneath it trampled and scraped from many paws over generations of GladeClanners. Sandscar ducked so that he could fit through the prickly entrance, squared off tail snagging slightly on the branches. Bluepaw stretched as she walked into the lowered clearing, tail curling onto her back like a squirrel.

Nightclaw turned her head over toward the group from where she sat on the Baskingstone, small paws crossed under her. Her lilac eyes widened slightly at the sight of the wounded she-cat. The glossy-furred she-cat padded over to the cats. Bluepaw tensed, before relaxing. _She won’t hurt us. We’re in camp; everyone would know._

“What happened?” She asked, leaning in to sniff the kittypet’s bloodied body before she looked up to meet Sandscar’s red gaze. Bluepaw was surprised to find softness in the black cat’s eyes as she glanced up to the tom, and even more surprised to see Sandscar’s eyes grow gentler as well. He gazed at her for a moment before responding.

“Let them answer, I just found them carrying her back to camp,” Sandscar shrugged, voice disinterested. Nightclaw glanced over to Redthorn and Bluepaw, the softness in her lilac gaze disappearing the instant they switched their focal point.

“We found her injured by the thunderpath. I’m guessing the barn cats were practicing battle tactics on the poor kittypet,” Bluepaw replied, voice dripping with bitterness as she looked at the white she-cat with pity glittering in her blue eyes.

“Poor thing,” Nightclaw murmured, casting a surprisingly sympathetic glance at the kittypet before padding away towards the Baskingstone, long tail trailing behind her. Bluepaw trotted towards the medicine den, Sandscar and Redthorn in tow.

As she came up to the gap in the walls of camp that served as the den, her bright gaze flickered over to Redthorn. “You can go clean your pelt; you’re covered in blood. Sandscar, follow me in and set her down gently.”

The cream pointed cat advanced into the den, sitting on the soft, sandy ground, curling her tail around her paws as she shuffled through the herbs, each sorted neatly into a nook in the rocky walls of the den. Sandscar set the fluffy white she-cat on the earth, striding out of the den to join Nightclaw on the Baskingstone. She welcomed him with a purr and stretched out her muzzle to lightly touch one of his broad shoulders before licking the thick white mane of fur on his chest to wash the long hairs. He chirped back at her, resting his muzzle on her head. _There may be something going on between them; I’d best check the nursery’s inner walls and ground for any thorns later, just in case,_ Bluepaw decided.

As Bluepaw turned her attention back to the many leaves, each one radiating a different, distinct scent, all of them stark contrasts against the smell of blood. She pricked her ears at the sound of approaching pawsteps. Redthorn stepped into the medicine den, bright yellow eyes glinting with worry. “Can I help you with healing her?”

“Of course,” Bluepaw mewed, blinking with surprise. The dark orange tom gave a small smile that hardly reached his eyes. With his broad back and thick paws, she hadn’t expected him to have a taste for helping the injured.

“Good,” he mewed, “So, what can I do to help?”

“You can wash her wounds while I get the herbs. That should hold her over until I can get some cobwebs,” Bluepaw gestured with her tail to the empty crevice reserved for cobwebs. With all the conflict with the barn cats, they must have been used up. “Luckily, cobwebs tend to collect around the corners of dens, so I can get enough from camp.”

Redthorn nodded, immediately ducking his head and beginning to lick at the scratches, while the medicine cat apprentice strode towards the elder’s den. _It’ll be nice to see Granny and Blackfur._

As she entered the hollow tree the elders called home, she crouched to make her way through the jagged entrance.

The elders were both curled up to rest, but Lilacshade’s ears pricked at Bluepaw’s pawsteps as she crept into the den. The light brown elder purred, lifting her head and gesturing with her soft muzzle for her granddaughter to sit. “Bluepaw, how’s everything?” Lilacshade’s brow furrowed as she noticed the flickering worry in Bluepaw’s eyes. “What’s the matter?”

“We found an injured kittypet. Her wounds are deep and I’m not sure if she’ll make it to sunset without treatment.”

“Oh, StarClan! Barn Cats?”

“By the looks of it, yeah. I’m just here to get some cobwebs.” Bluepaw brought up a round paw and grabbed a wad of cobweb that stretched from one of the den’s walls to the other. Lilacshade lifted herself onto her feet and seized as much as she could. Bluepaw blinked at her grandmother.

“I’ll help you heal her. Every life matters, clan or not,” Lilacshade padded out of the den. “Come on, now. Let’s get to the medicine den.”

Bluepaw padded over to the medicine den with Lilacshade at her side. On the Baskingstone, Nightclaw was napping at Sandscar’s side. The brown tom wasn’t asleep, but rather was washing the black she-cat’s face, the strokes of his tongue gentle as to not wake her up. She pricked her ears as she caught the noise of a conversation. Her eyes widened slightly to see that the kittypet had awoken. Seeming to hear her as well, the two cats turned to look at her. The woolly-furred she-cat shot her a bright smile.

“Thank you for saving me,” The cat mewed gratefully. Bluepaw padded inside the den to place the cobwebs on the sandy floor. Lilacshade did the same and then nodded at Bluepaw before trotting out of the cave and returning to her own den across the clearing.

“No problem. What’s your name?” The blue-eyed she-cat asked.

“Henrietta. Redthorn told me that you’re named... Bluepaw, right?” Bluepaw nodded, grabbing the cobweb in one paw and beginning to dress the gashes that littered her pelt. Henrietta flinched slightly.

“It’s alright, I’m using these cobwebs to stop the bleeding.”

“Oh, okay! Carry on then!” Henrietta turned to Redthorn. “So, your cats protect each other? All the stories I’ve ever heard of the clans talked about them slaughtering housecats and eating bones. They were always described as enormous, ugly things, but you’re actually quite attractive!”

Redthorn, face flushed, meowed, “O-oh, thanks! Yeah, we don’t eat bones or slaughter housecats or anything. Although, Sunpaw tends to gnaw on bones to sharpen his fangs. But, hey, that’s Sunpaw for you,” The dark orange tabby glanced over to Bluepaw. “Hey, speaking of Sunpaw, where is he?”

“Hawkeye said they were going out to practice fishing at the Great River, so they’ll probably be back by the time the hunting patrol returns,” Bluepaw responded, dressing the last of the claw marks. She looked up to Henrietta. “Alright, you’re good, but I’d recommend you stay the night. You were in pretty bad condition when we found you. Speaking of your condition, do you remember who attacked you?”

“A group of big cats, while I was exploring; my housefolk were out and I got bored while waiting for them, so I decided to check out the woods. They didn’t smell like you though; I know the scent of straw, and they were practically reeking of it. I’d reckon barn cats,” the kittypet replied, shuddering and curling her tail around the deep slashes in her flank. Redthorn, eyes shining with pity, pressed one of his large paws of one of her small, soft ones, pink pads uncalloused from her lack of time in the harsh forest. Bluepaw’s pupils narrowed into slits, her suspicions confirmed. _So it_ **_was_ ** _the barn cats._

“It’s going to be alright. Tomorrow, I’ll ask to accompany you when you go back to your garden, along with a few other cats. Those barn cats might be strong, but they’re stupid; we can outsmart them easily,” Redthorn boasted, puffing out his broad chest. Henrietta chuckled softly.

“Thank you, Redthorn,” she purred. Bluepaw’s nose twitched as she picked up the scent of the returning hunting patrol. She nodded respectfully to Henrietta before padding out into the open camp.

“Abandoning your patrol duties to sun yourself. Real classy, Sandscar,” Hawkeye hissed, dropping her trout to speak, tail tip twitching with annoyance and flicking water across the camp. Sunpaw had a similarly frustrated expression, completely drenched and carrying a catfish in his jaws. Coalfang and Smokefur flanked him, each carrying a skinny piece of prey in their mouths.

“I only did so to help Bluepaw and Redthorn carry an injured kittypet back to camp,” Sandscar spat back, tail bristling. Hawkeye doubtfully glanced over to Bluepaw for confirmation, and she nodded. Henrietta bounced up next to her.

“Hi there! I’m Henrietta,” the kittypet purred before wincing, curling in on herself.

“Henrietta, you should go back and rest for a while. Your wounds are closing up, and you don’t want to open them again,” Bluepaw advised the kittypet.

“Sorry! I’ll keep that in mind,” Henrietta meowed, carefully walking back to the medicine den.

“Huh. Now I’ve seen it all,” Hawkeye paused before asking, “So, who’s hungry?”

“I’ve already eaten,” Henrietta replied from the cave, while the other cats nodded vigorously. Bluepaw’s stomach growled furiously, the mention of food seeming to remind her of the aching hunger that had been gnawing at her belly all morning.

Bluepaw darted over to Sunpaw, looking at the fish he’d caught. She felt her mouth water at the sight of fresh-kill that wasn’t all skin and bones. “Feel like sharing?”

“Sure,” Sunpaw replied, settling down in a patch of long grass and ferns between the thorn tunnel and nursery, which was fashioned from a big rose bush in a hollow at the corner of camp, shielding a dip in the ground from any bad weather. He shot a confused glance towards Sandscar and Nightclaw, who were curled up together on the Baskingstone and sharing a robin.

“How long has _that_ been going on?” Sunpaw mewed, wrinkling his snout in bewilderment. Bluepaw shrugged, taking a bite of the catfish.

“Not quite sure. Should we ask them?” Bluepaw suggested. Now it was Sunpaw’s turn to shrug and take a crunch.

“If you’re really that interested in the love lives of serial killers, go for it,” he replied, mouth full of fish. 

Bluepaw sneezed as a heart-shaped leaf drifted down from a tree and landed on her nose. It flew onto the grass before her. She smirked as an idea surfaced.

“Hey, Sunpaw. Watch this,” Bluepaw chuckled deviously, snatching the leaf in her jaws.

She passed over to the pair, dipping her head as they turned to glare at her, forced to pause from their conversation to acknowledge the apprentice.

“Can we help you?” Nightclaw asked curtly, but with an irritated edge to her voice. Bluepaw smiled innocently, setting the leaf down on the Baskingstone.

“This is the leaf of a rare love tree, a traditional gift given to new mates,” she purred, her voice smooth as honey. Sandscar leapt to his paws and blinked rapidly, his face turning red. Nightclaw stared at her, alarmed.

“We-we aren’t mates! We’re just friends,” he squeaked, sounding kitlike. Bluepaw heard Sunpaw snort and snicker behind her.

She nodded and padded back to a widely grinning Sunpaw hiding his mouth with one paw. “Sure you aren’t. Let me know when she’s expecting! I’ll clean out the nursery.”

“How dare you!” Sandscar sputtered. “I’ll have you know-”

“It’s not worth it, Sand. They’re going to harass us no matter how we respond,” Nightclaw hushed him.

As Bluepaw sat down next to Sunpaw, he finally burst out laughing, and she allowed herself to do the same. Sandscar grumbled, and Nightclaw patted him on the back, glancing at them harshly. Bluepaw and Sunpaw smirked back at them knowingly before the cream pointed apprentice took another chomp of the catfish.

  
Bluepaw scanned the clearing as she chewed. Redthorn and Henrietta were grooming one another in the entrance to the Medicine Den. Smokefur and Leopardrush were sharing a mouse by a stump and chirped cheerfully at Coalfang when the Sunhigh patrol pushed through the camp entrance a moment later. Flamestar was stalking out of his den. The black and gray tom paused to yawn before padding over to the fresh-kill pile and sniffing at an old cardinal. As he picked up the bird, Hawkeye rushed over to him and nudged his side with her narrow muzzle. “Flamestar! Bluepaw and Redthorn found an injured kittypet by the Thunderpath while gathering herbs. She’s taking shelter in the Medicine Den and will be staying here until her wounds close up.”

“Very well. Want to share?” Flamestar offered, voice muffled by the cardinal. Hawkeye nodded and the pair ambled across the clearing towards the Shallowpool, a small pond neighbouring the Warriors’ Den, with their tails intertwined. Sunpaw faked a gag.

“Is _my_ mentor actually going for _Flamestar_ of all cats?” The bright golden tom snorted. “She can do far better.”

“I know, right?” Bluepaw murmured in agreement, swallowing the moist fish. She cast a glance to Henrietta and Redthorn, and then to Leopardrush, who was gazing fondly at Coalfang as the spiky black tom recounted the exploits of his patrol(something about a rabbit that kicked Darkpaw in the nose). “Seems like everyone’s pairing off today. Why do you think that is?”

Sunpaw shrugged. “Not sure.”

“We aren’t ‘pairing off’!” Sandscar cried out before being hushed by Nightclaw as several alarmed gazes turned to the source of the embarrassed yowl.

Bluepaw rolled her eyes. “Sure you aren’t.”

After a few more minutes of eating, the catfish had been reduced to a pile of thin bones. Bluepaw hooked the skeleton up with her paw and made her way to the dirt-place, an earthen hollow edged with lush bramble bushes and flowering shrubs near camp, before spilling the remains onto the sandy ground of the clearing.

As she neared the camp, she caught a whiff of something warm and delicious close by. She opened her jaws wide and tracked the scent around the shrubs that bordered the camp, her belly brushing the forest floor. She dropped her ears as she spotted her quarry.

A fat, fluffy vole was carelessly nibbling on a seed near the roots of an elm. Her mouth watered as she imagined the taste of the plump brown creature. She crept over dry leaves, ardently avoiding any twigs that might snap under her paws and keeping her tail level to the rest of her body. With a wiggle of her fluffy haunches, she dove towards her prey. The vole squeaked and moved to dash into the undergrowth, but its weight slowed it down. She nimbly tossed it into the trunk of the elm with one paw. The apprentice lunged towards the dazed creature and fastened her jaws around its neck, killing it in a heartbeat.

She murmured her gratitude to StarClan as the critter spasmed then went limp. Pride swelling in her chest, she turned to move back to camp, when something caught her eye.

There was a gap in the camp wall between a blueberry bush and some thick brambles, so narrow that the warriors probably hadn’t noticed it. Bluepaw padded over to the hole, sniffing at it curiously before pushing her head through, wincing as a thorn snagged on her cheek. She blinked in surprise as she found herself looming over the grassy hollow of GladeClan camp, in a narrow alcove obscured by several bushes, ferns, and a tall shrub. A few boulders trailed down towards the shield of foliage.

Bluepaw hopped down the stones before pushing through some bracken. She padded out into the fresh-kill pile and dropped her vole. _Should I tell the warriors? Or…_ a devious smile split her muzzle.

She stealthily darted over to Sunpaw, who had taken to dozing in the grass. He blinked open one eye as she sat down next to him. The golden tom eyed her suspiciously. “You’re back late. Did something happen?”

She leaned in, shielding their conversation from any pricked ears with her tail. She whispered, “I found a secret entrance to camp!”

Sunpaw sat up, eyes wide. “Really?”

“Yeah! We can use it to sneak out while nobody’s looking and frolic about at night.”

Sunpaw raised an eyebrow. “What about the barn cats?”

“Barn cats sleep too, silly!” Bluepaw scoffed. “We could even snag some extra prey for the clan while we’re out.”

Sunpaw’s hackles were prickling with excitement. “Tonight, then! I’ll tell Hazelpaw.”

Bluepaw grinned mischievously as Sunpaw scampered over to the apprentices’ den, where Hazelpaw napped in the shade. _Tomorrow the clan will be well-fed thanks to us!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Henrietta is my baby I would die for her.
> 
> Edit: this chapter has been revised!


	4. A Hope for Peace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... it’s been a hot minute huh? This fic hasn’t been abandoned, I just lost motivation for a while. Luckily I’ve recently had my interest reignited!

“Wake up, sleepy slug!” Sunpaw woke up that morning to Sandscar’s annoyed growl. He groaned as he sat up, stretching out his legs and sneezing as a cold droplet of water fell on his muzzle from the canopy above.

“What is it, foxbreath? I’m trying to sleep!” He hissed at the light brown and white tom, lip curled. Sandscar narrowed his eyes.

“We’ve been waiting for you to get up for the past hour! Henrietta’s wounds are healed and we’re on the patrol that’s escorting her back to Twolegplace. Come on,” Sandscar spat, whipping around and leaving the den, fluffed-out tail swiping from side to side and scattering water from last night’s rain onto the ground. Sunpaw yawned as he flexed his muscles. Bluepaw and Darkpaw were still snoozing in their respective nests, their snores quiet, while Hazelpaw’s was vacant. Bluepaw was purring in her sleep with kind dreams, curled up tight with her tail tucked over her muzzle like a fox, while Darkpaw lay on his side, legs and tail tip twitching and jerking. Sunpaw didn’t doubt from the determination on his face that the small black and white tom was dreaming of battles and tree-climbing and other exciting things.

Sunpaw padded out of the den, ferns tickling his side. Hazelpaw was drowsily munching on a plump shrew by the fresh-kill pile. At the sight of the fat creature, he remembered with a twinge of giddiness their escapades last night; the brothers alongside Bluepaw had been silently sneaking out of camp for the last few nights and hunting when nobody else was watching. Hawkeye hadn’t taken notice, but that didn’t bother him much. Ever since he and his friends had begun their night hunts, everyone looked more well fed, which was worth more to him than the dark bags under his eyes. Unfortunately, all they’d manage to snatch up last night in the heavy rain was his brother’s current meal and a few measly mice.

He trotted across the hollow and sat down next to his brother, kicking out his legs behind him in a sploot and chirping a greeting to the golden brown tom. He peered at the fresh-kill pile and soon settled on a young robin with a robust red belly. He glanced around the clearing, still gloomy with dawn.

Hawkeye was washing her chest fur by the thorn tunnel while Sandscar paced impatiently, his long, waterlogged pelt dripping everywhere. Sunpaw winced, thanking StarClan for his short fur; Sandscar’s long, dense coat was still soggy despite the fact that the rainclouds had long since moved along. Leopardrush was lying on his side at a clump of bracken and nodding politely to Coalfang as the small black tom left on dawn patrol. Henrietta and Redthorn were grooming one another while they passed the scarce remains of a scrawny old dove between themselves. Hawkeye caught his eye and beckoned him with her tail as he finished the robin.

“Come along, everyone. Be on your guard for barn cats. Let’s get Henrietta home,” she mewed as he and Hazelpaw reached her, nodding to the thorn tunnel before climbing up through it. He and the other members of the patrol departed after her, trekking up the path. Sunpaw’s heavy eyelids fluttered shut for a moment before he shoved them open, and he forced his strides wider and more energetic. The forest was eerily quiet, and the Leaffall air was cold enough to be uncomfortable for a short furred cat such as himself. The sky above them was a grayish tone even where the thick blankety clouds didn’t shroud their view.  _ Even the birds aren’t singing! Can’t we sleep a while longer? _

“I’m tired,” he complained to Hazelpaw, turning his head with a disproportionate amount of effort. The golden brown tom yawned and nodded.

“Same here.”

Redthorn turned and blinked at them. “You feeling under the weather, ‘paw?”

“Nah. I didn’t get much sleep last night, that’s all,” Sunpaw replied with a shrug.

“Maybe you should go to sleep earlier?” Henrietta suggested softly as she slowed her pace to fall beside him, her tail brushing his side and eyes round with concern.

“Easy for a kittypet to say,” Sunpaw snorted. “We have to stay up practically all day just to fill our bellies, with those barn cats taking everything from under our noses.”

Henrietta blinked. “Why not just make peace with them and share the forest?”

Sunpaw laughed bitterly at the kittypet’s naivety. “Easier said than done. They’re all cruel and greedy cats, from what I’ve seen thus far.”

“You know, I think I remember one of them being a bit reluctant to attack at first until she saw the others pounce,” Henrietta’s eyes glazed over for a moment with the memory. Sunpaw winced at the look of trauma on the white she-cat’s face. The poor kittypet didn’t deserve any of what had happened to her. She wasn’t even hunting, for StarClan’s sake. Henrietta blinked and her expression returned to normal.

Sunpaw snorted. “Why not just leave the barn then?”

Henrietta shrugged. The patrol pushed through the dense emerald green foliage onto the dirt trail adjacent to the Thunderpath and the Twolegplace came into view in the distance through the light mist. Henrietta’s haunches wiggled with anticipation and she picked up her pace, bouncing ahead cheerily. Sunpaw winced as he noticed a deep slash on one of her thighs, nearly obscured by her thick fur. It had closed and scabbed over, but was still an ugly crimson color and bumpy. He hoped that her owners would take her to the Vet. Though he didn’t doubt Bluepaw’s ability, the golden tom knew that the kittypet needed better help with all of those deep, long gashes and bites criss-crossing her pristine pelt.

Brown fallen leaves crunched under his paws as he walked along the path. It wouldn’t be long before the trees were completely free of lush green and Leafbare officially began; maybe a few moons at most. Sunpaw could only hope that the frozen season wouldn’t be too cold; there was hardly enough prey to begin with, even with he and his friends’ night hunts. Despite their best efforts, they could only take some of the burden off of their clanmates’ backs. There were few leftovers.

Sunpaw glanced over to the moorlands of HeatherClan. The rolling hills looked equally gloomy, and only a light, cold breeze rustled the grass and heather today. Dense fog veiled the moor, making it nearly impossible to see beyond the first few dips and rises of the foreign territory. The golden apprentice felt his stomach snarl and he opened his mouth to taste the air. He scowled as he only smelled wet trees and traces of HeatherClan scent markers. The robin clearly hadn’t been enough, especially since with his night hunts consuming more energy. His tail tip twitched rapidly with annoyance. Maybe he should try to hunt on LightClan territory? He mentally scratched himself on the nose. That was against the code, and though he hadn’t seen them, he knew from the scents along the border that the medicine cats- Pinkeyes and Foxpaw, if he remembered their names correctly- ardently patrolled and marked the boundary. No way.

It seemed like all of the medicine cats had to keep a hold of the territories these days without any warriors, save for Jaggedleaf. Owlwing, though a bit lazier in her duties, passed by the Thunderpath daily, and the bubbling, gorse edged brook that separated HeatherClan’s huge expanse of moor from BreezeClan’s narrow strip. BreezeClan’s medicine cat, who was named Feather-something-or-other policed the bit of moorland by the Great River that the fishing clan kept alongside her mate, a handsome, sharp-toothed ex-rogue called Sharkbait(He remembered that name particularly well simply because of how  _ cool _ it sounded when compared to other, sillier clan names). According to Jaggedleaf, BreezeClan didn’t use the moor much; it was a gift from HeatherClan in a Leafbare so frigid and unlike those before it the Great River froze over completely, leaving no fish to eat. It remained a tradition to hunt above the river caves they called home during the colder moons, when the fish hadn’t gone completely, but for the most part retreated to warmer waters.

Sunpaw saw a brown blur ahead of him, and blinked in surprise as he saw the fattest rabbit he’d ever seen dart into the forest. Owlwing skidded to a halt at the Thunderpath, panting heavily and glaring at her lost dinner. She shrugged at the staring golden tom once she’d caught her breath. “Your prey now, from the looks of the border.”

Sunpaw’s belly growled again and he didn’t hesitate to dash into the foliage, racing after the swift critter. He caught up fast, his long legs and thin frame doing him well for once as he pelted after it. His target was squeaking shrilly with terror, and Sunpaw bit back a hiss of frustration.  _ With all of its shrieking, it’ll scare off any other prey! _

Sunpaw spotted a familiar foaming stream several fox-lengths to his left, nearly hidden by thick clumps of bracken and steep mud shores. He smirked as an idea sparked in his mind. He picked up his pace despite the protest of his muscles. His sleepiness was forgotten as he bounded after the creature, hearing the patrols’ pawsteps grow louder behind him as they joined in his chase. From what he could hear, even Henrietta had joined in, though she was panting noisily. He leaned to one side and began to close in from the right. The rabbit would be forced between him and the stream at a diagonal angle slowly growing closer, and it had two options; either fall into the stream and be snatched up from its waters, deep for a small animal like itself but shallow for a cat, or accept its fate and allow Sunpaw to devour it.

Teeth aching with anticipation and impatience, the apprentice dove for the rabbit’s neck the moment it was forced between the stream and himself. His hind paws slipped on the muddy ground and his stomach lurched as he tilted downwards and tumbled down towards the stream and heard Hawkeye cry out his name in alarm as he slipped. He hit the stream far too quickly, and plunged into the icy cold water as his mind was plunged into an equally frigid realization.

The rainstorm had made the water rise.

He had fallen into a deep, freezing cold stream.

It was like slow motion. He felt the rabbit twist away, struggling and kicking beside him in the icy water. At first he tried desperately to swim upwards, pawing at the abyssal black surrounding him, but it only succeeded in making sore fatigue shoot through him. Next to him, the rabbit went limp, eyes glazing over as it drifted to the bottom of the stream. He stared in horror, vision blurred by the water.  _ Is this how I die _ ? He screamed in defiance, and then wanted to claw himself as he felt water rush into his lungs. Sunpaw choked against the water, but only succeeded in letting more in. Above him, he could hear Hazelpaw crying out his former name over and over, voice hoarse from despair.  _ Sorry, brother, _ he thought as exhaustion took hold of him, part from night hunting, part from impulsively bolting for a rabbit, part from all the struggling, and part from the liquid ice gushing into his stomach and lungs.

He wondered what StarClan was like. Jaggedleaf described it as a vastly superior copy of the valley that lay glittering, stars flecking its inhabitants' coats like spotted tabby markings. Night never befell the gleaming lands, and warm sunlight always bathed the lush bright jade grasses in gentle amber. The frothing rivers and creeks were an effervescent sapphire blue and tasted of clean, cool moonlight. He hoped that he could at least visit Hazelpaw from time to time through his brother’s dreams. Maybe mom would be there? His pelt flashed with hope, but also sadness. Hazelpaw wouldn’t get to see her for a long time.

His sight glossed and his heavy eyelids slowly fell halfway down until all he could make out was cold, cold jet black. Sunpaw realized that he’d never stopped to consider what a sad, sad color that was. No light at all; just shade and death and dread incarnate. For a moment, he swore he saw a flash of Hazelpaw’s brown coat, and then mentally chuckled to himself. Nope. Hawkeye wouldn’t let him jump in.

But then he once again caught sight of the brown fur and blinked rapidly. That pelt was warm and brown but-

_ Sandscar! _ Sandscar had leapt into the water and was swimming down towards him, huge paws churning against the current. The great brown tom descended torturously slowly against the heavy cold until he finally reached out a paw. Sunpaw stared at him blankly for a moment before realizing what the tom wanted him to do. Muscles screaming from tiredness, he stretched out his own paw. Sandscar gripped it tightly against his large body and forced them both upwards, paddling with his squared-off tail. It was over as quickly as it began, the dull light of the early morning forest bathing them as the warrior threw him onto the shore. In that moment, it seemed like the brightest light ever.

“Brother!” Hazelpaw gasped in relief, rushing to the golden tom’s side and rubbing his head against the tom’s shoulders, face stained with tears. Sunpaw tried to speak, but he felt his stomach twist and jerked away, hacking up water onto the muddy earth and scrambling weakly away from the stream before his legs buckled and he fell downwards, chest heaving with exhaustion.

Hazelpaw leaned down, touching his soft muzzle to Sunpaw’s ear and breathing in his brother’s scent as the gold tom continued to cough up cold black water. After a few more minutes of the ordeal, he sat up. Hawkeye, Leopardrush, Redthorn, and Henrietta darted towards him, pressing their heads to his pelt and murmuring thanks to StarClan. Hawkeye lapped at his head urgently like a worried mother grooming a sick kitten. 

Sunpaw sneezed and glanced over to Sandscar. The light brown tom was panting heavily and had flopped over onto his side, pelt now even heavier with water. The gold tom blinked at him in confusion. He narrowed his eyes. One good deed didn’t make up for trying to kill him, his younger brother and murdering countless others, not in his eyes. Sunpaw reluctantly dipped his head. “Thanks. I guess.”

“You’re welcome,” Sandscar replied, ignoring the apprentice’s dry tone but matching it with his own. “It’s what any warrior would have done.”

“That was brave of you Sandscar,” Hawkeye mewed, nodding to the warrior. Sunpaw stared in surprise, blinking rapidly.  _ Did my mentor just praise the cat who’s threatened to take my life before? _ “But just because you saved Sunpaw doesn’t mean you’ve gained back your privileges just yet. For now, you should get back to camp. That water will make your coat heavier and will not only slow you, but also the patrol as a unit, down.”

Sunpaw smirked and Sandscar grunted.  _ There’s the fiery Hawkeye we know and love! _

As a soggy Sandscar turned and headed back towards camp, Hawkeye flicked her tail back towards the Thunderpath. “Back to it warriors. Sunpaw, if you’re too tired feel free to go with him.”

Sunpaw snorted and shook his head. “The last thing I’m gonna do is bail now. I am expecting to have a break from patrols today, though.”

“Of course, Sunpaw,” Hawkeye purred with amusement before licking his cheek gently. “I was terribly worried about you, you know. Next time try to think before you charge into a hunt.”

Sunpaw flattened his ears defensively. “Hey! The rain made the stream rise, it isn’t my fault.”

“Still, you should’ve checked the water before planning such a stunt. It was a clever idea, don’t get me wrong, but your execution of it was impulsive and sloppy.” Hawkeye flicked her ear, glaring sternly at her apprentice. Sunpaw chuckled awkwardly and her face softened with good humor. “I’ll try to keep you off fishing patrols from now on.”

“Sounds good,” Sunpaw snickered, licking Hazelpaw’s ear tip as the golden-brown tom brushed under him, pelt still slightly ruffled.

Time flew by as they continued to the Twolegplace, and it wasn’t long before they reached the corner. Henrietta was prancing with excitement as they twisted around and paced along the nests until she stopped bouncing in front of a light blue nest bordered by a wooden picket fence.

“Here it is!” She purred, eyes full of emotion. She turned to the patrol, eyeing Redthorn. “I’ll miss you.”

He blinked slowly at her. “I’ll miss you too. Why not just become a warrior and fight by my side?”

Henrietta laughed loudly. “Me, become a warrior? Sorry, but you’ve got the wrong she-cat. I would never be happy without my housefolk.”

“You wouldn’t be happy with us… with me?”

“That’s not what I meant,” Henrietta leaned forward and nuzzled the dark orange and white tom. “I do like you a lot. You’re all probably the nicest cats I’ve ever met. You’re humble, brave, and strong. I’ll tell all the housecats in the town about you and prove their stories wrong.”

“You’d better,” purred Hawkeye with amusement dancing in her gaze. Henrietta teared up.

“Thank you all so much for saving my life. Especially you, Redthorn. Tell Bluepaw thanks for healing me, and Sandscar for helping carry me back. I’m forever in your debt.”

She paused for a moment before dropping her body in a battle crouch, unsheathing her small claws. “Claw those barn cats for me when you get a chance, alright?”

“I’ll make sure to,” Redthorn trilled. Henrietta craned her neck up to the big tom and gave his nose a quick lick before leaping onto the fence, casting them one last glance before jumping down into her yard. Sunpaw peered through a hole in the barrier and watched her trot up to the nest, clawing at the door and meowing loudly.

  
  


A moment later, a red-haired twoleg, her belly swollen with unborn kits, opened the door and greeted her excitedly. The twoleg rubbed her all the way from her ears to her tail tip. Henrietta arched up into the touch and purred loud enough that Sunpaw could hear before the pair padded back into the nest.

An indescribable, bittersweet emotion fell over Sunpaw and he felt his face fall. Then he smiled. The fluffy kittypet was back where she belonged now.

“Let’s get back to camp so that you all can get some rest,” Hawkeye ordered after a moment. “I think we all need a nap after Sunpaw’s unexpected swim.”

Sunpaw snorted.

They ambled back along the thunderpath, mewing a greeting to the passing dawn patrol as they did. “Where’s Sandscar?” Nightclaw had asked, and they explained the incident with the stream. The black she-cat nodded with understanding as she went on her way.

After a while, the patrol froze as Hazelpaw fell into a hunting crouch. Sunpaw blinked at him and he flicked his tail towards a young mouse near a hedge of blackberries a few fox-lengths into the forest. The golden-brown tom winked and dropped his voice to a whisper. “Promise I won’t fall into a stream.”

Hazelpaw crept towards the rodent steadily, paws silent and carefully dodging any twigs that might snap under his weight. He lowered his belly to the forest floor and unsheathed his small claws, preparing to launch himself at his target.

Before the brown tom could lunge for the mouse, a group of cats burst through the bracken, and the mouse squeaked, darting into some tall grass. Sunpaw hissed and raced to his brother’s side as the posse of barn cats surrounded them, slithering over the ground like venomous snakes ready to strike. He felt Hawkeye, Leopardrush, and Redthorn converge around him, snarling and scowling. One of their largest, a tall and skinny silver tom with a curved scar on his cheek, reached through the grass and pulled out the mouse. It shrieked before he closed his paw around it, snapping its spine.

“Care to explain why you filthy clanners are hunting this plump creature?” The silver tom mewed, voice eerily calm. “I thought my dear elder brother told you that you were only to hunt the scrawny prey.”

“So you must be Silver, second-in-command of the barn cats and brother of Slate,” Hawkeye growled, hackles fluffed up. Sunpaw, lowered to the ground and pressed against his brother’s warm pelt, scanned the barn cats circling them. There was Silver, the tall tom, a young dilute calico she-cat who was glancing noncommittally around her, a fluffy lynx point tom with a bloodthirsty sneer, a thin brown tom, and an elderly gray-blue she-cat tsk-tsking in Silver’s general direction.

“That didn’t answer my question,” mewed Silver, narrowing his blue gaze. “Let me guess; you’re putting your cult’s needs over that of an expectant queen and her friends?”

“We could share the prey, but you and your brother are too stubborn to see that!” Sunpaw snapped before he could stop himself. Hawkeye cast him a sharp look, and he flattened his ears. “Sorry, Hawkeye, but he started it!”

The dilute calico snickered but was hushed by the gray-blue she-cat. Sunpaw noticed that one of her pale green eyes was dull and blind with her age.

“Barn cats,” all of the rogues’ heads turned to Silver. “I think it’s time we teach these arrogant clanners a lesson.”

“You don’t have to ask me twice,” chuckled the lynx point tom, knotted fur bristling, claws and teeth flashing. Sunpaw growled and unsheathed his claws. Hazelpaw did the same beside him. Redthorn bared his teeth and Leopardrush’s lip curled to reveal his sharp white fangs. Hawkeye bristled furiously, her small white claws flicking out and driving grooves into the earth.

“This doesn’t have to turn into a fight,” Hawkeye mewed stiffly. “Just leave us alone.”

Silver stared blankly at her for a moment before his pupils narrowed to slits. “Kill them.”

The lynx point cat launched himself at them, the brown tom and blue-gray she-cat following suit a bit reluctantly. The dilute calico hung back anxiously, hesitating. Silver thrust his head forward at her. “Did I stutter?”

The lynx point collided with Hawkeye and she kicked him off of her, slashing at his belly simultaneously with her hind claws. Redthorn wrestled with the brown tom by a tree stump, and Leopardrush danced around the old blue-gray she-cat, swinging his claws down and slicing her muzzle when he got in her blind spot. With a hiss, she bit down onto his shoulder and he yelped in response.

The dilute calico finally lunged at Sunpaw and Hazelpaw, tackling the smaller Hazelpaw first. Sunpaw snarled, diving at her and gripping one of her hind legs, flinging her away. She scrambled to her paws and growled at them. He tensed, preparing to pounce before he caught scent of something beyond the blood and fear. He wrinkled his muzzle and sneezed to clear the horrible, acrid smell from his nose.  _ What is that? _

Hawkeye seemed to notice as well. She pulled away from the lynx point tom, whom she was snapping her jaws at, and sniffed the air. Fear crossed her face. “Everyone! Stop fighting right now! I smell f-”

Before she could finish her sentence, a trio of russet canines burst through the foliage, barking and howling.  _ Foxes! _

The clearing erupted with yowls and hisses as the massive foxes raced around, clawing and biting at the cats. One of them leapt at Hazelpaw, but the golden-brown tom was too stunned to react. Blood pulsing in his ears, Sunpaw jumped forward, raking his claws on its flank. It snarled loudly and whipped around, springing towards his jugular with long jaws. He screeched furiously and narrowly dodged the attack, wincing as sharp fangs tore at the fur of his throat.

The fox seemed to lose interest in him as it bounded now towards the brown barn cat and Silver. Sunpaw now dashed over to the one clawing at Hawkeye. He screeched as he pounced, jaws fixing onto its ear and tearing off the sensitive skin there. The canine yelped and whimpered pathetically, bolting away into the ferns. He grinned as he watched it go, spitting out the foul grasshopper-sized chunk he’d taken out of its ear.

Sunpaw’s ears flattened further to his head and he swiveled around as the cry of a she-cat in distress split the air.

One of the huge red foxes had pinned the dilute calico to the dirt and loomed over her, jaws dripping with translucent, gluey saliva. She turned his head to him, and everything seemed to stop as she stared at him and her face flashed to Alphonse’s as he was deconstructed by the forces of alchemy. He could hear his brother’s screams as she rasped, “Help me.”

Not sure just what he was doing, he raced towards the fox, wrapping her jaws around its neck and tackling it to the earth. He sank his teeth farther into the thick red fur and felt his fangs pierce flesh. Warm blood welled around his muzzle before he pulled back his head with a wet rip, blood spraying the air around it. He winced and flinched as the hot, stinking crimson bathed the side of his face and shoulder.

The clearing fell silent aside from the fox’s chokes and gags as blood streamed from its neck and mouth, pooling on the short grass and painting it scarlet. Sunpaw knew that it had attacked them without provocation, but he couldn’t help a jolt of horror and pity.

The other fox gazed at its fallen comrade for a moment before dashing away with a cry of grief. The dilute calico stood, cringing and bringing one leg up to her chest. Sunpaw winced. From the look of it, the limb was broken. She looked at him. “Why did you save me?”

He shrugged. “You’re a cat, just like me. I don’t want to see anyone die if I can help it.”

She stared at him with admiration, then glanced to Silver. He wrinkled his muzzle and took a threatening step forward. “This isn’t over. Today, we will teach you a lesson. It doesn’t matter that you saved her.”

The lynx point tom grinned maliciously and Sunpaw’s eyes rounded with shock, then narrowed with anger. “I could’ve let her die, but I didn’t! The warrior code says-”

“You clanners think you’re so honorable, with your little code,” Silver interrupted, stepping forward. The dilute calico blinked.

“Silver, sir, this really isn’t necessary! Let’s just go home,” she mewed, flattening her ears when he shot her a glare.

“I don’t care! They’ll all be dead by dusk and no longer be in the way of good fresh-kill for Juno’s kittens!” Silver unsheathed his claws and Sunpaw dug his into the ground, bracing for an attack. Before the light tom could rush towards him, the old blue-gray one leapt in front of him.

“Have you no shame, Silver?” She snarled. “This tom saved your daughter! The least you could do is let them go!”

“They’re taking up valuable resources, Stream! I’m doing what I must!” He hissed back.

“You mean you’re doing what you think you must because Petal happened to starve!” Silver visibly flinched back. “That winter was harsher and colder than usual. Juno, on the other hand, is due very soon and we already have prey stored up in case of a bad season.”

“Don’t speak of my mate, you old hag!” Silver hissed, then cleared his throat, ducking his head. “I mean, mother, please don’t speak of her.”

“I didn’t raise you to be such a selfish fool! Ever since your brother took Oak’s place we’ve been nothing but violent, greedy brutes. Juno is so fat and pregnant she can barely walk! She clearly doesn’t need any extra fresh-kill. The yellow she-cat is right! We must share the forest if we wish to protect your sister-in-law’s kittens. Make peace before it’s too late!” she glanced around. “Who here supports this murder?”

The lynx point tom perked up and Stream sighed. “Who here besides Sky supports this murder? Do you support this, Twig?”

After a moment of consideration, the brown tom shook his head. “He saved Fern’s life.”

Fern, the dilute calico, nodded. “Yes! Silver, please call off the attack!”

After a moment of baring his teeth, the tall tom relented, scoffing and turning to the bracken. “Fine. Come along, barn cats.”

Fern smiled warmly at Sunpaw as she followed her barnmates through the red ferns. “What’s your name?”

“Sunpaw.”

She laughed. “That’s a funny name. Well, I suppose clan cats simply have different traditions.”

She looked as if she wanted to say more, but Silver called her. She blinked sweetly at him before pushing through the vegetation. “I’ll see you around, Sunpaw!”

“See you!” He purred. Hawkeye nodded towards the brush and the GladeClan cats walked off towards the hollow.

As the patrol padded back to camp, Sunpaw thought back to Henrietta’s earlier words.  _ Maybe some barn cats only stay out of fear, _ he realized.  _ If Silver and Slate can repent for their actions soon, there might be a chance at peace. _

He felt a chill run down his spine, and not just from the cool air.  _ What if they don’t see the error of their ways? _

He wasn’t sure he’d be strong enough to kill Fern in battle if it came to that.

_ Please don’t let it come to that. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stream is the best grandma. Love that fluffy grump gal!! :^)
> 
> Fern is a big lesbian and also one of my favorite characters to write about thus far lol


	5. A Dark Prophecy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, but here’s the next chapter! Tried to make this a good one, so buckle in ;)

“Ouch!” Hissed Darkpaw, his hind claws digging into the sandy ground of the medicine den. Bluepaw rolled her eyes as she poked at the golden-brown thorn that had embedded itself in the small tom’s pad. She scoffed, “Don’t be such a kit, Darkpaw. It’s not even that far in.”

“But it hurts!” He whined, tail bushing out as he pulled his paw away. Bluepaw sighed. _So keen to get into danger but he can’t even take a measly thorn._

“Next time watch out for brambles when you go charging after prey,” she suggested wryly. “Lift your paw again.”

Darkpaw squeaked and tried to rush away, but Bluepaw caught his tail in her jaws.

“Oh, no, you don’t,” the she-cat mewed through a mouthful of his dense fluff. She unceremoniously yanked him back onto his haunches, snickering at his high-pitched yelp. She snatched his paw with hers and gestured to the thorn. “How do you expect to be a warrior when you’re sobbing over this?”

Darkpaw narrowed his eyes and slumped his shoulders grumpily, but didn’t respond otherwise. She grinned triumphantly and bent down, tugging out the thorn with her fangs. He yowled dramatically and keeled over. She blinked, unimpressed. “Get up, mousebrain. We need to dress the wound.”

He reluctantly peeled himself off the ground. She grabbed a wad of cobwebs from a nook in the wall and carefully wrapped it around the shallow wound. As soon as she finished, he exhaled, having been holding his breath for the majority of the procedure.

“Thanks, Bluepaw!” He purred, touching his muzzle to her chest fur before rushing out of the den. Hawkeye was organizing a last minute hunting patrol before night fell, and he bounded over to join. _His pelt probably works well in the late day_ , she thought. _He’s jet black save for his white parts._

“Hey, Blue,” Sunpaw padded into the medicine den, Hazelpaw in tow. He slid forward an offering of a mourning dove. “I have to leave on evening patrol with Hazelpaw, soon, but I thought it would be nice to share some prey between the three of us.”

He glanced over Bluepaw’s shoulder at Jaggedleaf, who was organizing a pile of herbs. “Four of us…?”

“I’ve already eaten. Thank you, for the offer, though, ‘paw,” Jaggedleaf mewed, gesturing to some vole bones.

“Want me to take those to the dirtplace for you, when we pass by it on patrol?” Hazelpaw offered.

“Yes please, and thank you, Hazelpaw.”

“You’re welcome.”

Bluepaw sniffed at the dove’s wings before taking a bite of the warm flesh. She spat out feathers periodically as she ate. In the matter of a few minutes, the dove was also diminished to some bones and feathers. Hazelpaw nudged the skull. “I’ll take this too. I think I’m going to give these feathers to Blackfur and Lilacshade for their nests.”

Sunpaw shrugged. “Sounds good.”

“Sunpaw! Hazelpaw! Time to leave!” Hawkeye called.

“See you!” Hazelpaw purred, grabbing the bones and feathers before rushing out of the den. “Coming, Hawkeye!”

Sunpaw nodded politely at Bluepaw before darting after his brother.

“I remember when I was that young and enthusiastic,” Jaggedleaf sighed wistfully. Bluepaw turned and blinked back at him in understanding.

“How old are you now?”

“Around fourteen years,” the gray tom replied, reaching up a paw to idly stroke his cheek fur. Bluepaw cringed as he yelped in pain, jerking back from the thick knots.

“Is your fur _really_ that matted?” She gaped. He dryly smiled.

“I was hoping it wasn’t noticeable,” he mewed, blushing. “No use in trying to untangle it now. It’s far too knotted.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Bluepaw mewed, recognizing a challenge and taking it. She beckoned him with her tail. “Come over here.”

He reluctantly sat back on his haunches, and little by little Bluepaw gently swept her pink tongue through the tangled bramble thicket that was his coat. A few times he flinched away, but when he edged back towards her, her licks were softer, but more focused on that one area. It only took an hour until she pulled back and admired her work.

His pelt was a great deal tidier than it had once been. Still some fur stuck up on his shoulders and chest, but he craned his neck to tongue them into sleekness. Finally he stood up, experimentally running a paw through his newly clean pelt. It was easy for him, and smooth. Bluepaw lifted her head proudly, gesturing for him to follow her as she strided out of the den.

She led him over to the Shallowpool, and he stared at his reflection, dumbstruck.

“I don’t know what to say,” he mewed, breathless. “Thank you, Bluepaw. I’m starting to look a bit like myself when I was your age. I was quite the ladies’ tom, you know.”

“My work isn't finished yet,” she purred. “We still need to take care of a few other things. But, yes, I can definitely see that in your prime you were popular with the she-cats.”

“What else do we need?”

“Well, for one, you should try to stand a bit straighter,” she pointed out, gesturing with her muzzle towards the hunch in his back. “You, my friend, look like an old warlock. We’ll also need to clean and sharpen your claws, they’ve grown quite yellow and have a few noticeable jagged edges. Your teeth are yellowing, too; we’ll have to scrape some of that plaque off with prey bones. The amount of hunters has probably helped quite a bit with the jut of your cheekbones and ribs, so that’s a start.”

Jaggedleaf was nodding slowly like an ardent student taking notes at a lecture. He slowly straightened his posture and raised his head, wincing as his joints cracked loud enough that Bluepaw could hear. “I’ll keep that in mind. We probably won’t have time tonight, though.”

Bluepaw blinked. “I don’t catch your drift.”

Jaggedleaf’s eyes lit up. “Oh, I forgot to tell you! Tonight is the half moon. You get to come with me to the Moonfalls and meet the other medicine cats.”

Her blue eyes shone as she jolted upwards, fluffy haunches wiggling with excitement. “Really?”

“Of course,” Jaggedleaf laughed before gesturing with his tail for her to wait. When he returned from the medicine den, he was carrying a bundle of herbs in his jaws. He sat down before her and nudged it forth. “Can you tell me what they are?”

She nodded, leaning down and peering at the herbs. She sniffed at them and immediately picked up their familiar aromas.

“Sorrel, daisy, chamomile, burnet,” She pointed at each of the herbs in turn as she spoke. “Travelling herbs.”

Jaggedleaf blinked in surprise. “Yes, exactly. That’s a very good job, Bluepaw.”

She stretched, gaze still glittering. “My parents were doctors, after all.”

“What?” Jaggedleaf stared blankly at her. She stared back before realizing her mistake.

“The medicine cat equivalent in my old world,” she explained. “Without all of the StarClan stuff, of course. Just healing.”

“I see,” Jaggedleaf mewed. “Where are they now? Won’t they be worried for you?”

Bluepaw felt the all-too-familiar pang of pain in her chest and averted her eyes, choosing to look down at her paws and examine the travelling herbs. “They’re dead.”

“Oh,” the gray tom’s face fell. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pried.”

“It’s fine,” she meowed. _Lie._ They both knew it.

“If you’d like, we can hunt a bit on our way there!” Jaggedleaf changed the subject, flicking his tail to the sky. “The moon’s only just begun to rise. We have plenty of time.”

“What about the barn cats?”

“They’ll be asleep at this hour, and even if they’ve sent out another one of their patrols, I doubt they go as far as LightClan territory. Terrain there is treacherous; the land they’re used to is smooth.”

Bluepaw purred with amusement as she imagined one of them slipping on big, boxy paws down a steep slope, bumping their noggin on the ground and hobbling all the way home with a twisted paw.

The medicine cat apprentice took the herbs into her mouth. Though she cringed slightly at the bitter flavor, the tang didn’t bother her much, honestly. She spent a good majority of each day chewing up foul-tasting leaves for medicine, and over time became accustomed to it. She stood when she finished, fluffy tail swishing behind her.

“I took mine in advance. Let’s go,” Jaggedleaf said, padding towards the thorn tunnel. She caught up fast, trotting alongside him.

In the night, the forest seemed even louder than the day, despite the eerie stillness save for the swaying of tree branches in the cool breeze. Crickets sang sullenly from the grasses, and an owl hooted from its tree. Distantly, a fox screamed shrilly. The woods were painted in deep, thoughtful blues and purples rather than the vibrant, energetic greens and golds of the day. Twigs cracked under her soft paws. Moonlight filtered through the boughs and leaves, painting whatever it reached silver. Time seemed almost frozen in the ebony darkness.

Her mentor’s presence next to her was comforting. Without the old tom at her side, she’d surely find this night ominous rather than beautiful. When she glanced over to him, she momentarily saw bright blue eyes rather than leaf green. She blinked and they became green again. Bluepaw thought for the briefest of seconds, _he sort of looks like my father,_ before crushing the idea down, an odd shame washing over her. She shouldn’t be trying to replace him; that was simply selfish of her and dishonorable to her father.

They cut across a few small streams and Twoleg paths, and ducked under thick foliage, Bluepaw wincing as the branches periodically caught on her thick pelt. As they passed by the Ancient Sequoia, Jaggedleaf’s tail twitched up. “Say, did I ever tell you about the Legend of Sequoiabite?”

Bluepaw’s ears perked up. “No, I don’t think so.”

“They say that once upon a time, there was a kit born in GladeClan larger than any other,” he began. “She grew and grew until she towered above any other cat in the valley. She was a talented hunter and an even better fighter, and was named Sequoiabite in honor of these skills. Unfortunately, she wasn’t the most humble cat and often bullied her clanmates. One day, she killed a BreezeClan tom unprovoked. This started a war between GladeClan and BreezeClan. GladeClan was horrified, and they worked together to chase her out. 

“She toiled in her isolation for years, her heart aching with regret. One day while hunting, she met a GladeClan she-cat named Shinefur. Shinefur was the daughter of the GladeClan leader, and was made deputy due to a treaty their medicine cats proposed. It was decided that GladeClan and BreezeClan had to come together, and that the leaders’ first born offspring would become the deputies and become mates. Mudtooth, Shinefur’s arranged mate, was a cruel and vicious tom. Shinefur confided in Sequoiabite, who shared her anger that the clans would treat her like some sort of bargaining chip.

“They began to meet in private, and one night Mudtooth noticed that Shinefur wasn’t anywhere he could find her. He tracked her to their meeting place and startled Sequoiabite. She killed the tom in self defense but realized quickly that she had just caused the war to continue. She ran far away, ignoring Shinefur’s calls. Years later, the spirits of all of those who had died due to her impulsiveness appeared to the aging rogue and told her that the forest was dying due to the war. They needed a mother tree, and she could redeem herself by becoming that mother tree.

“Desperate to make up for her actions, Sequoiabite agreed. That night, a great sequoia tree rapidly grew in the middle of the forest.”

Bluepaw waited on bated breath, but Jaggedleaf kept walking. “Is that it?”

“Yeah,” he mewed. She flicked her ear.

“What about Shinefur?”

“Shinefur fell for another she-cat later in life, and eventually moved on from Sequoiabite. It’s said that the great brown warrior still watches over the forest.”

“I see,” replied Bluepaw, blinking warmly at Jaggedleaf. Her parents used to tell her ancient tales such as that, though they were much lighter in tone due to her age when they were alive. Her father was especially enthusiastic about telling stories, while her mother was usually busy working overtime.

Jaggedleaf looked up, sniffing the air. “Featherpelt and Owlwing have been this way recently. We should hurry up, lest we be late.”

The pair continued ahead, their pawsteps rushed as they trotted over the forest floor carpeted with freshly fallen leaves. They leapt smoothly over fallen logs and treestumps, Jaggedleaf’s freshly groomed pelt rippling in the light breeze that flew past them as they soared over the obstacles. As they grew further into the wood, they came to a slow river. Jaggedleaf flicked his tail to the left, drawing her attention to a ravaged oak that looked as though it had been badly damaged in the past. One of its thick branches, jagged at the ends from its fall from the tree, cut across the water, bridging the gap.

“Here, just grab my tail in your jaws,” Jaggedleaf mewed when his apprentice hesitated at the base of the branch. “It’s sturdier than it looks.”

“Alright, if you’re sure,” Bluepaw obliged, gently gripping his fluffy tail with her teeth, careful not to dig in too deep. He clawed up onto the bridge, and she followed, wincing as the rough gray bark cut into her soft pink pads. As she clambered her way up, she paused, briefly letting go of her mentor’s tail to lick the blood that trickled from the light incisions. He shot her a sympathetic glance before they crossed over the water boundary and into a copse of fir trees, the scent of pine needles flooding her muzzle. She rubbed at her heart-shaped pink nose, trying to scrape off the itching smell.

As they padded through the dense coniferous forest, Bluepaw found herself stumbling over more boulders and lips of rock. She yelped as she twisted her paw on some unsteady ground, sharp pain shooting up her leg. Jaggedleaf paused and glanced over to her. “You alright, there?”

“It’s nothing,” Bluepaw lifted her paw. “It’s only a light twist.”

Jaggedleaf smiled awkwardly. “I suppose I should’ve let you know to watch your paws. The earth gets more and more unstable the further you go; it takes a bit of practice.”

“I can see that,” the white-and-cream she-cat said wryly as she narrowly avoided another slip on the stone-dappled slope. She steadied herself and pressed forward, her bushy tail curled over her back. Jaggedleaf did so as well, his pawsteps fleet.

Jaggedleaf seemed to make an understatement; several times as the duo trekked over the cliffy terrain, occasionally speeding up on sandy paths flecked with smooth pebbles that soon faded back into moss-blanketed boulders and tough rocky ground, Bluepaw felt sharp stones spear her pads. The higher they climbed up the steep slopes, the more the wind buffeted Bluepaw’s soft coat, and the more the chill of higher altitudes seeped through her skin.

They were now clambering along an exposed ridge, their pelts fluffed up to keep out the cold. Bluepaw flinched as she heard a distant howling, instantly shrinking back and baring her claws. “Wolves!”

Jaggedleaf stopped and glanced back at her, smiling reassuringly. “Don’t worry about them. They don’t stray into our lands. They only hunt in the higher areas.”

He pointed with his fuzzy snout up towards the north. Sharp, white mountain peaks spliced the distant dark sky like teeth, stars dimpling the vast jet black expanse. She gazed up for a moment before Jaggedleaf nudged her forward.

They continued to climb for a while until they reached a narrow path of smooth stone edged with many stacks of rocks from huge to small. Ancient pawprints dotted the sleek granite, all of them pointing further down the pathway. Bluepaw, though she longed to stop and sightsee a while longer, found herself pushing forward swiftly without even noticing, as if her instincts themselves were dragging her towards the ending of the trail.

“Do you feel yourself being pulled?” Jaggedleaf rasped in her ear, keeping pace. Bluepaw nodded absently, her eyes locked on a faint glow in the distance. He hummed. “Then you’re truly meant to be a medicine cat. Embrace that tugging feeling and follow the path.”

She padded ahead, the moonlight cooling her pelt as it cast silvery beams upon the stony pathway. As she neared the bluish glow, she caught the scent of several other cats and began to hear murmurings coming from them.

“Are they coming or what?” Bluepaw recognized Owlwing’s haughty drawl instantly among the other unfamiliar tones.

“Surely. Jaggedleaf’s never missed a half-moon meeting before and I doubt he’ll start now,” soothed a rich she-cat’s mew, the voice almost musical in its thick honeyed tones.

“Maybe his apprentice is just having a rough time on the slopes?” Suggested a husky tom’s voice.

“Perhaps,” agreed another voice, this one smooth and posh.

Bluepaw pushed into the glade the voices were coming from, letting the glow bathe her in blue light. The sight of what lay in the clearing took her breath away. Just a few fox-lengths ahead was a shimmering pool with an eerily silent waterfall streaming into it at the far edge where shrubbery became steep cliff, the crashing one would expect from such a monumental wall of water absent, the only trace of the noise a faint, murmuring drone. Where the falls cascaded into the small lake, soft white foam frothed against hard black rock and starlit, crystalline water. Faint snowflakes drifted down over the water and thin ice shielded the water edging where the medicine cats congregated. Thicker floes of ice drifted slowly along the pool. As Bluepaw stared into the pool, entranced by its ethereal beauty, she found herself momentarily blinded by a flash of silvery white as the moon scaled high enough into the sky to push its reflection right in the center of the pool. The glimmering water seemed to call out to Bluepaw, and she resisted the urge to pad forward and touch her nose to the clear surface.

“There you two are,” purred the she-cat with the musical voice, an elegant white tabby. Her fur seemed to glow in the angelic pale lighting. She touched noses with Jaggedleaf before leaning forward and sniffing Bluepaw. “I am Featherpelt of BreezeClan. You are?”

“Bluepaw of GladeClan,” she dipped her head.

Owlwing shouldered past the two other cats, a lean orange-and-white tom and a cream cat with brilliant pink eyes and goldish stripes on their pelt. The pair rolled their eyes and sighed as Owlwing strolled up to the cats.

“We’re already been introduced, obviously, but I have a question for Jaggedleaf before we begin,” she growled snootily, her muzzle tilted upwards. Her tail flicked as she continued, “How exactly did you manage to get so many cats in your clan?”  
  


Before Jaggedleaf could reply, Bluepaw, hackles risen, hissed, “Why wait until now? I thought this was supposed to be a meeting for speaking with StarClan, not a meeting for interrogating your elders.”

Owlwing sniffed haughtily, sitting back on her haunches. “I thought the other medicine cats should know as well, so he didn’t have to repeat it when they asked. I can be nice when I wish to be. Are all GladeClanners this temperamental?”

Bluepaw was about to make a snappy remark when Jaggedleaf stepped in front of her. “Now, now, Owlwing. Don’t start a fight.”  
  


“You aren’t my clanmate. Don’t tell me what to do,” Owlwing spat in response, thrusting her muzzle forward. Bluepaw drew her ears back. _And she calls_ **_us_ ** _temperamental!_

“Calm yourself, Owlwing. I wasn’t trying to tell you what to do. It was a mere suggestion,” Jaggedleaf soothed the brown tabby. “I simply prayed to StarClan every morning and every night and left the occasional offering of herbs and prey here. Eventually Gladestar managed to go behind the backs of the other founders and used his stargraced powers to bring in twolegs from another world, in the process changing their forms into what you see when you slack on your patrol duties every day by warming yourself on a boulder and watching my cats go by rather than protecting your ancestor’s land.”

Owlwing leapt to her paws, snarling. Bluepaw blinked, also blindsided by Jaggedleaf’s words, but the shock quickly descended into giddy amusement.

“Wow,” the lean orange tom mewed simply. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard Jaggedleaf get that intense over patrols before.”

Jaggedleaf shrugged, his expression still fatherly and amiable. “I simply think that we should defend our clan’s territory well. StarClan has placed their faith in us. It would be dishonorable to relax when we have been asked by a higher power to stay ardent and alert.”

“Same old Jaggedleaf, always looking for a new way to please our ancestors,” purred the cream cat before they blinked warmly at Bluepaw with their rose-colored eyes. “Greetings, Bluepaw. I am Pinkeyes. The orange tom is my apprentice, Foxpaw.”

“Soon I’ll be a full medicine cat, though,” Foxpaw cut in, raising his narrow head proudly. “I’m hoping for something like Foxrush or Foxflame. You?”

Bluepaw thought for a moment. “I suppose that it would make sense to be called Blueeyes, or something like that. I like the names Bluedoe and Blueflower a lot, too.”

“I like those,” Foxpaw purred, gazing at her with his bright amber eyes.

Featherpelt strode over to the edge of the Moonfalls, the pool now looking like a great moon fallen to the earth, beckoning the other cats with her tail. “Let’s not keep our ancestors waiting, now.”

Bluepaw, swallowing thickly, pushed forward, crouching down next to Jaggedleaf. He gave her a nod of approval. “Just stretch out your muzzle and touch your nose to the water. It’s going to be fine.”

Pushing down her anxiety, Bluepaw darted out her head, eyes screwed shut, and touched the very tip of her pink nose to the clear white pool.

For a second, nothing happened other than a sensation of pure ice cold spreading from where the medicine cat apprentice had tapped her muzzle against the water, then she felt herself begin to fall.

It wasn’t abrupt or sudden; more of a floating-in-space sort of feeling, like a feather falling from the sky. Bluepaw felt all of the tension in her muscles ease out until she fell into a state of sudden calmness. After a few moments, she felt warm sunlight bathe her like the embrace of a mother. She opened her eyes on reflex to find herself standing in GladeClan camp.  
  


She glanced uncertainly around the hollow. Had she just fallen asleep in camp? Was all of what had just happened a dream? She shook her head. That couldn’t be right. No cat was in sight, as if the camp had been long abandoned. In the drowning silence, not even a birdsong or the rustling of leaves in the breeze, Bluepaw knew instinctively that she was alone.

All of the sudden, a shape flitted overhead, cutting through the silence with a quiet “woosh”. She glanced up, flinching at the unwarned disturbance in the peace. Suddenly the air around her felt thick and cold. The camp, more than a home, now resembled a stony prison. Its hardened walls stretched up around her, looming over her fluffy body and glaring her down. She shouldn’t be here. She was in danger.

The shape flitted by again, and this time Bluepaw recognized its form. A massive black raven, its feathers iridescent in the cool light of the Leaffall sun. She crouched down and hissed wordlessly at the beast. It flew across the sky again, its crows like a cruel witch’s cackle. This time another form followed in its wake. An eagle now soared alongside the bird, its cruel talons glittering. Bluepaw gulped before she felt a burning sensation in the back on her head.

The young she-cat whirled around and bristled at the sight of an owl watching her from a towering pine tree atop the walls of the hollow, its head cocked as if observing something it found intriguing. Its gaze, black with glints of red, bored into her like two burning coals, scorching her fur. How long had it been watching her? She heard the flap of wings above her, and she glanced up again, her pupils tiny.

Her tail bushed out and she weaved to the side when a bundle of flowering stalks lit ablaze came crashing down onto the ground of the camp. The eagle screeched with laughter as more flaming blossoms came pouring down into the hollow from its clutches, and small licks of fire began to dance across the dried grass. _They’re lighting the camp on fire!_

In what seemed like an instant, Bluepaw’s feet frozen stationary, the bird of prey and its dark companion had sent more of their fiery flowers down to camp. After a moment, the owl joined in, and within less than thirty seconds, embers flew past the apprentice’s face, orange, red, and gold bathing the camp around her in a furious inferno. Smoke billowed through the air normally so fresh and sweet, and Bluepaw coughed harshly. This brought her back to her senses, and she glanced around desperately, darting about only to find the fire dancing over every inch of foliage in the camp. She hissed in pain as sparks and embers singed her pelt, her ear tips charring from the heat. Burning leaf litter and twigs drifted through the air. The birds, safe within the sky blushing from the earth’s burning state, jeered and laughed through sharp beaks.

Suddenly a painfully familiar voice echoed over the roaring flames that turned the camp into a furnace of hell. The breath was sucked from her lungs, and not from smoke. _Hughes._

“Beware the flowers and birds, or else you will all be destroyed!”

“Bluepaw!” Bluepaw sprang onto her paws, chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath. The fire was nowhere to be s- that’s right. She was safe on holy ground, Jaggedleaf as her side. She shuffled her paws anxiously. She was supposed to be sharing dreams with her noble warrior ancestors, not whatever she had just experienced. Still, the stench of smoke lingered in her nostrils and the sight of flames that roared like the Thunderpath was ever-present in her mind’s eye.

“Is she alright?” Foxpaw’s concerned mew brought her back to the present. All of the medicine cats were clambering around her. Even Owlwing’s gaze was round with worry.

“I’m fine, I just…” embarrassment washed over Bluepaw and she turned to Jaggedleaf. “Can we get back to camp? Please?”

He pressed his muzzle into her fur. “Of course. But you were screeching in your sleep. Are you-”

Bluepaw, her mind elsewhere, ignored him and rather forced past the other healers, running down the path. She _had_ to get home _now_. Hughes’ words echoed in her mind as if shouted in an infinite cavern.

_Beware the flowers and birds, or else you will all be destroyed!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooooo, the plot thiqqen, what do y’all think the prophecy means? The intensity is finally picking up! Yippee!


End file.
